When the Mechs Get Bored
by JaAm
Summary: Spike and Bumblebee return to the Ark to find a strange sight. The Autobots are all outside the ship, frozen in place. Was it the Decepticons? Wheeljack's immobilizer? Umm... no.
1. Chapter 1

When the Mechs Get Bored

"I just don't get it," Bumblebee sighed as he and Spike came out of the woods near the _Ark_. He had just picked Spike up from school, and the pair had been discussing this particular subject for a considerable amount of time.

Spike laughed, "You don't have to get it Bumblebee, just accept it!"

"But it doesn't make any sense! Why would you DRIVE in the parkway, and PARK in the driveway?" Bumblebee pressed his point.

"Look, it's simple, we just-"

Spike's sentence caught in his throat when he saw the _Ark_. Or, more specifically, all the Autobots around it. There were about thirty of them, all standing around, not one of them moving. Bumblebee and Spike just stared.

It was Spike who regained his voice first. "You don't think-"

"WHEELJACK!" Bumblebee yelled. He put his hands on his head and stared across the field in a panic.

A voice rang out from across the courtyard. "Why does everyone always assume it's my fault?" Bumblebee and Spike looked to see the mechanical engineer walking over to them with a downcast expression. "And you made me lose, too!"

Bumblebee looked up apologetically to the taller bot. "Sorry 'Jack," He said, still not quite understanding the situation.

Spike spoke up, "Um... What's going on?"

"We're playing that human game, Statue!" Wheeljack seemed to have lost some of his earlier hurt, and smiled behind his mouthplate.

"Oh yeah, I know that game!" Spike announced, "The one where you all hold still to see who can last the longest! I'm terrible at it." He shrugged. "I bet Sideswipe didn't last thirty minutes!" He yelled into the crowd of Autobots.

Another voice cut through the stillness, "I did too!" Then a pause. "SLAG!"

The three at the front burst into laughter, and several other previously frozen bots joined in, falling over themselves in hysterics. They dragged themselves up, still giggling, and joined the original three at the front. Sideswipe stormed through the group, but then he stopped midway. He turned and looked at his brother standing next to him, the fierce yellow warrior, and gave him a hard shove. Sunstreaker fell to the ground with a loud clatter. There was more laughter.

"The slag?" He yelled up at his twin.

Sideswipe put his hand on his hips. "If I'm out, you are too." Then he stalked back to the half-circle of five Autobots and one the human watching. He strutted over to Spike and looked down at him. "If it weren't for Optimus..." He let the threat hang in the air, and moved over to stand next to Bluestreak. Sunstreaker followed suit, as well as some who had laughed at his unfortunate fall, and glanced at the now ten bots who had lost because of a laughing fit. The was Bluestreak, Hound, Trailbreaker, three of the Aerialbots, Powerglide, Warpath, Blaster, and Sideswipe. Joining into the small band, Sunstreaker now made eleven.

Bumblebee panned his gaze across the remaining twenty-something Autobots frozen in various positions. He noted the absence of Optimus and Prowl, obviously, and Grimlock wasn't there either, though the rest of the Dinobots were, and they seemed to be holding through. Ironhide, Red Alert, and Ratchet weren't present either, along with various other bots you would never see taking part in a game like this. The rest of the Autobots were currently on the field though, sitting or standing, determined not to lose.

All was quiet for a while, everyone wondering in their processors who would fall next. Then Spike broke the silence. "Who's idea was this anyway?"

"I'll give you three guesses, and the first two don't count." Wheeljack laughed.

Spike needed to think only a moment before he got it. "Jazz."

"Ya got that right." Blaster chuckled. "A bot can only wonder where he comes up with these crazy ideas!"

Out on the field, Jazz resisted the urge to smile.

* * *

><p>After Hoist got an 'emergency' call from Grapple about some architectural issue or another, the game watchers headed into the <em>Ark <em>to wait out the rest of the game.

About two hours later, nineteen more bots had trudged into the ship at some point or another, heads hung low. Tracks had completely and utterly freaked after a squirrel decided to relieve itself on his pede, dragging Inferno down with him while trying to hop on one foot and ultimately falling to the ground on top of the fire rig. Slingshot seemingly spotted Laserbeak, and crying "DECEPTICON!" had charged off with three others to fire at the innocent Red-tailed Hawk. Two other bots had just gotten bored, and First Aid had been called in to assist Ratchet. Blaster had gone in to try and get the "Old Doc Bot" to let First Aid off the hook, but now all he had to show for it was a double-shift in the morning.

* * *

><p>The twins peeked outside to see who else was left in the everlasting game. They saw just two more bots out on the field. And promptly fell over laughing.<p>

Snarl was crowned winner of the Statue game, despite the heated protests from Smokescreen that the Dinobot had cheated. Apparently Snarl had the best strategy out there: He had fallen asleep in the sun. The twins had witnessed a silently fuming gambler as he watched his opponent sleep the game away, unmoving. But there had been nothing he could do about it, lest he lose. He had planned on just waiting until Snarl woke up, but when he heard his observers laughing at him, he jumped to his feet and chased after them, laser rifle blazing. And even then Snarl didn't wake up.

* * *

><p>Hound and Mirage wandered through the orange halls of the <em>Ark <em>towards the Rec Room.

"So what did you think?" Hound inquired. Mirage just grunted.

"Oh come on," Hound continued, "You can't say it wasn't a little fun."

Mirage rolled his optics, a human habit he had picked up. "Fine, it was a little interesting. It certainly tested our concentration abilities. It was almost like a training exercise."

"Well when you put it that way, it doesn't seem as fun anymore." Hound chuckled.

"You asked for my opinion. Besides, I'm almost certain that Jazz probably has another scheme in mind."

Jazz, around the corner from the two conversing bots, leaned up against the wall. "You bet I do Mirage. Just you wait..."

* * *

><p>AN Well, what did you think? I got this little idea from the epically awesome fic Pheonix by The Starhorse. You should read it! Anyway, this is my first fic (Could you tell? I hope not...) and I'm a little nervous about uploading it, but what the heck. If you have any ideas on what game the Autobots should play next, I'm open to suggestions. I have a few in mind but... Hope you enjoyed it! Reviews are loved, criticism is appreciated, and flames will be given to Snarl as a prize for winning!


	2. A New Game

"Come on Boss-bot. The guys will love it."

"Well... I suppose it will be alright. Where do you wish for this to take place?"

"Jus' right outside the ship! 's perfect!"

"Alright, you have my permission."

"Sweet! On one condition."

"You're giving me a condition to let you do what you want?"

"...Yes sir!"

"Very well, go ahead."

"You have to play."

"...On one more condition."

* * *

><p>"I don't know, but Jazz put it together, so it has to be good." Blaster said in response to Bluestreak's question.<p>

"That's true. And if Jazz put it together then it has to be a lot of fun. Jazz always comes up with the greatest ideas. This is going to be a very interesting day, I'm almost sure of it!" Bluestreak smiled.

Trailbreaker laughed at the gunner's long-winded observation. "True, and if Optimus is okay with it then we can't get in trouble."

The three Autobots walked out of the Ark and into the sunlight. It was a bright, cheery day, the kind that made Gears want to go crawl in a corner. About forty or so bots were ready for the game this time, and none of them knew what the plans were for that afternoon.

Blaster glanced over at the Autobot leader. Optimus was in the middle of the crowd, managing to look regal and defined while just standing there. Blaster chuckled and walked over to a group of Autobots standing to his left. Hound was currently speaking.

"Well, I for one have no idea. Anyone else?"

Bumblebee spoke up, "Maybe a sport? Soccer or something?"

Fireflight put his two-cents worth in. "Nah, I don't think so. We tried football a while back, and that didn't go so well, remember?" Everyone shuddered at the memory of a half-crushed Slingshot who had gone after a fumble at the same time as Grimlock.

Bumblebee looked up, "I'm just glad I'm gonna be here for this game. If anyone else-" It was at that moment when there was a strangled cry over the hill near the ship. Every helm turned to look at the strange sight.

It was Jazz dragging a very ticked-off looking SIC by the pede.

"Jazz, I have work to do. Would you release me now?" Prowl almost pleaded.

"Sorry Prowler, no can do!" Jazz smirked and continued to pull his friend's leg.

"Jazz I order you to release me this instant!" Prowl threatened the TIC.

"Aww, you're pullin' rank on me? That ain't right. 'Sides, it's not me that wants you out here."

"Glad to see you could make it Prowl." Optimus wandered over to the two struggling bots.

Prowl, who was on his stomach, twisted to look up to his leader. "You're the reason I was unceremoniously dragged from my desk?" Prowl dead-panned.

Optimus seemed to consider this. "Yes."

Prowl's face hit the dirt. Jazz smiled and released the normally-held-in-high-esteem officer to look over at the bots staring at the scene. He clapped his servos together to get everyone's attention, as if he didn't already have it, and held them over his head.

"Attention, Autobots! Today we will partake in the human game commonly known as..." He paused for dramatic affect. "CAPTURE THE FLAG!"

Loud whoops came from many of the Autobots, and a few sarcastically groaned. Jazz smiled at the expected reaction, then began to explain the rules of capture the flag. They would be divided into teams and each team would have ten minutes to hide their flag. Traditionally, the land would be divided up, but they decided that it would be more fun if there were no boundaries and you just went after anyone who wasn't on your team. That way it would also be harder to protect the flag. Persons must find and retrieve the other team's flag and run for their lives to the Ark before they were safe and their team won.

"Just a few lil' rules first, my enthusiastic comrades." Jazz started. "The big man Optimus and our very own tactician will hav' t' be on opposite teams."

Prowl rubbed the side of his helm from his place on the ground. "What? Why?"

"Cuz I said so." Jazz teased. "Actually, it's to make the teams fair." He turned back to the Autobots as a whole. "Next, to make this contest a lil' more innerestin', instead of just tagging people on the opposite team, you will have to shoot them down with one o' these babies." Jazz hoisted a small gun no bigger than a pistol.

Wheeljack cocked his head to one side. "Oh, so that's why he wanted all those stun-guns."

"Wh- what? You mean to tell me that Jazz requested over forty stun-guns, and you didn't get the least bit suspicious?" Ratchet spluttered.

Wheeljack scratched the back of his helm. "Well... I guess I didn't... I just thought..." Ratchet walloped the mechanical engineer over the head.

Jazz continued, "The stun only lasts about a second, enough to letcha know you've been hit. Then ya have to follow whoever shot ya to a hidden jail and wait t' be rescued by a teammate."

Jazz reached out and pulled two Autobot-sized flags out of sup-space, one red and the other purple.

"Team One will be the Autobots," He waved the red flag over his head, "And the other will be the Depetiscums!" He likewise waved the purple flag. More groaning. No one wanted to be the Cons. Jazz looked back to the two conversing officers. "Optimus, you befittingly shall be the leader of the Autobots, and Prowl," Jazz glanced down at the purple flag and suppressed a laugh, "You're Ol' Meggy!" He tossed the flag into the air and took off running just as Prowl let out an indignant "WHAT?"

"LET THE GAMES BEGIN!"

* * *

><p>Heh. Cliff-hanger. Sorry to do that to you guys, but I don't have any opportunities to get on the computer during the week and I really wanted to get this out there. Hope you forgive me? And sorry for the short chapter. Next update should be next weekend or the next, depending on how long the chapter is.<p>

I only got three reviews for the last chapter, and while I appreciate those that I got, I would like some more. Even if you just click the review button, type in "You made me laugh!" and then click send, that would make me a very happy fangirl. Longer reviews are very much loved though!

Also, by semi-request from Bumblebeelover901, Optimus Prime and Prowl join in on the crazy!


	3. Let the Games Begin!

Hey my amazing readers! I just wanna say thanks to everyone who added my story to their favorites and/or story alerts! I also got over three times more reviews for Chapter two than I did for chapter one! You have no idea how happy that makes me! This chapter will be a bit longer than the first two. Also, I won't be able to name all the bots that are on what team, because there are about 40 of them, but I'll name the ones you need to know. If I don't name an Autobot and you'd like to know which team he was on, ask me in a review and I'll include it and the reason why in the Author's note of the next chapter. So hang onto your hardhats you Spike-wannabes, and enjoy the third installment of **When the Mechs Get Bored**!

* * *

><p>"Slag slag slag slag SLAG!" A certain red front-liner loudly whispered to himself. He didn't need anymore attention from the opposite team than he already had. He had gotten careless, standing on a cliff on the large inactive volcano just above where the Ark jutted out. He had been able to see the large forest on his left and the rest of the cavernous mountain to his right. Unfortunately, what he could see, could see him also, and Prowl had spotted him from his place in a large burrow. A shot had whizzed past Sideswipe's left audio receptor, and he had taken off down the mountain at a full run. He was now taking refuge behind a large collection of boulders in the woods, hoping the police cruiser would go in the opposite direction. No such luck. The black and white bot was surveying the land behind his shelter slowly and cautiously. Sideswipe pulled out his stun-gun and loaded it. He took in some air, his cooling fans cycling hard to keep him from overheating. Just as he was preparing himself to jump over the rocks and ambush his superior officer, he felt a light *tap tap* on his helm. <em>Slag! <em>He thought yet again. Slowly, he lifted his helm to see straight into the barrel of a loaded gun.

"Checkmate."

* * *

><p><em>Earlier<em>

After finally calming Prowl down about being the leader of the Decepticons for a day, Jazz informed him that he would be allowed to choose first.

"Choose?" Prowl asked.

"Well yeah! Who do ya want on ya team?" Jazz placed his hands on his hips.

Prowl put his finger to his chin, "Well, not you." Jazz smirked. "Figured."

Prowl turned around, doing a once-over on his comrades. His battle computer was running through several different scenarios and deciding who would be best for what job. Finally he picked out the one mech that would be invaluable to his team. "Ratchet." Several bots groaned, now almost wanting to be on the Decepticon's team. The ambulance humphed and walked over to his new leader's side.

"Ratchet as a Con? Fitting." Trailbreaker joked. A loud clang rang through the field, followed by the thump of a bot hitting the dirt. Ratchet stood back up straight, glaring daggers at the downed Autobot.

"How does he do it?" Hound asked, incredulous. Ironhide shook his helm.

Optimus then took his turn, selecting the bots he believed to be the ones necessary to win. It had taken about twenty minutes, but finally all the bots were divided up. It was Optimus, Ironhide, Sideswipe, Sunstreaker, Jazz, Mirage, Inferno, Cliffjumper, and Warpath against Prowl, Ratchet, Bumblebee, Blaster, Hound, Bluestreak, Powerglide, Brawn, and Trailbreaker. Each member of the Decepticon team had been given a fake magnetic Decepticon symbol to place over their Autobot one. Then the two teams were given one hour to come up with a strategy and pick the site for their hidden jail. The Cons had chosen a small area surrounded on all four sides by a large underbrush, while the Autobots had picked a rather large cave with a small mouth. Then they planned.

* * *

><p>Night had fallen, bringing with it shadows to watch prey and new hiding places. The game began, and the players moved out into their positions. Unfortunately, Sideswipe had decided to forgo Prime's orders to hide down low in the mouth of a cave and went to find a new lookout spot. And now he was paying the price. Sideswipe sulked in the jail, the first bot on either side to be caught. It surprised him immensely, shocked and humiliated him. But Sunstreaker would get him out, he knew. He just had to wait. All frequencies were being blocked within the tight prison, so there was no contacting anyone on his team. He almost wished that they wouldn't notice his absence, at least for a while. He didn't want anyone to know he had been caught so soon. The taunting he was getting from Brawn wasn't helping either.<p>

"Look at the high and mighty front-liner, pouting from his prison. Ha! Never thought I'd see the day. You must feel pretty stupid sitting in there by yourself, huh?"

"Stick it up your exhaust port, Brawn."

* * *

><p>From his point at the opening of a small cave, Cliffjumper looked down the barrel of his gun. "He really shouldn't have gotten a bright yellow paint job." Cliff eagerly grinned, Bumblebee completely unaware as he lay on the ground, watching for anyone to cross his path. "I mean really, when has that color ever helped him in the field?" His finger tightened on the trigger. "Serves the fragger right." The shot flew arrow-straight downward toward the minibot. Cliff's aim had been perfect, and it went straight through the scout. "Wait, what? Why did it..." Suddenly the yellow colored minibot started to fade, and realization hit the warrior like a lead brick.<p>

"Oh n-" he felt the shot hit his side, the electric buzz course through his systems, and he could no longer move. The buzz subsided, and Hound stepped out from around a stalagmite. "Serves the fragger right." He parroted.

* * *

><p>Sunstreaker was knee-deep in pine needles, looking for the flag. He kept glancing over his shoulder to make sure no one sneaked up behind him. He shoved aside a large clump of leaves, and finally stood up. The flag wasn't here.<p>

"If I were Prowl, where would I hide my flag?" He wondered to himself as he started away from the pile. "Probably in a data pad where he keeps everything else. I bet there's an app for that." A shot careened past his left thigh, and he came to a full halt, whirling around and firing out a shell of his own. Trailbreaker dove to the side behind a large group of trees. Sunstreaker cursed and took the opportunity to make a mad dash for it. He transformed and sped off through the pines. "Fraggin' pine needles are gonna scratch my paint!" He moaned to himself. Trailbreaker was hot on his heels, also in his alt mode, but the Toyota didn't have the same speed as the Lamborghini. Sunstreaker took a wide turn to avoid crashing into an evergreen tree and stopped. He transformed and jumped into the air and grabbed a particularly strong branch. He pulled himself up into the tree just as his pursuer shot under him and off into the distance. Sunstreaker jumped down from the tree and started to walk through the woods again. He stayed low in a defensive crouch this time to avoid being seen so easily again. He was ducking and pushing branches out of his way, and his sensors were on high alert, his audio fins picking up nearly every sound. A squirrel high in a tree chattered at him, and he nearly jumped out of his armor. Flipping around, he caught sight of a certain thick-headed warrior.

Brawn was about thirty yards away, lazily leaning against a tree. He seemed to be talking to himself, and had not yet noticed that he had been seen. Sunstreaker got down on one knee and pulled out his stun-gun, aiming at Brawn's chassis. Brawn still hadn't budged. They call him Brawn and not Brains for a reason, don't they? A slight shuffle from behind the bush where Brawn was standing stopped him from pulling the trigger. A sliver of bright red caught his attention. "Oh no, he didn't. I can't believe it!... I'm never gonna let him live this down." He chuckled to himself. Sunstreaker started shuffling sideways to try to get around on the other side of the prison. If he could avoid any brittle dead branches or leaves, he might just make it without gaining Brawn's attention. All he had to do was reach his brother, then they would both be allowed five minutes to run and hide before anyone could fire at them. Finally coming around behind Brawn, Sunstreaker crawled forward towards his twin. He could've just launched forward and grabbed his brother, but Sunstreaker had a different idea.

Sideswipe was twirling a thin branch in between his fingers when he saw movement in the corner of his optic.

"Sun-" He almost yelled, but the yellow front-liner gave him a harsh glare, and he shut his vocalizer. Sunstreaker motioned for him to come forward. Sideswipe looked back at his supposed guard to see that he was still oblivious to the whole thing. Turning back to his brother, they both took off quietly to freedom, Brawn still taunting his non-existent prisoner. "I can't believe you went down so easily, so quickly. I'd be willing to bet..."

* * *

><p>Cliffjumper grumpily followed Hound through the woods. The cheery tracker was whistling a little tune, and it was getting on his nerves. No one could shoot them while Hound had a prisoner, so they walked carefree to the jail. Hound finally saw Brawn through the trees. "Got one for you Brawn!" Hound announced.<p>

"Just stick him in there with the other one." Brawn jerked a thumb at the open area.

"Umm... What other one?" Hound inquired, confused. Brawn glanced behind him.

"Where... how did he... ARGH!" Brawn kicked at the tree he had been leaning against, and it split in the middle. "SIDESWIPE!"

* * *

><p>Optimus was crouched against the dirt, stun-gun poised in case of attack. It felt small in his large servos. He was used to gripping his ion blaster, aimed at a real Decepticon, not one of his soldiers. He felt strange fighting against them, unnatural. It was his job to protect them and keep them on the right track, not fire at them and bring them in. His hand-picked crew had been a blessing to him, and he knew he couldn't have picked a better team to be stranded on a foreign planet with. Someday they would all return home, back to their beloved planet of Cybertron. But right now he was stuck in a strange substance called dirt playing a foreign game all for the purpose of fun. When had his life become stopped making sense?<p>

Optimus heard the shuffle of pedes nearby and instinct drove him to point his gun at the source of the noise. The sound ceased, but Optimus continued to aim at the same spot. All was quiet, and that usually did not mean good things. Crickets chirped and a whippoorwill sounded. Then something much more drastic pervaded throughout the air. Optimus jumped up and dropped his gun to clutch at his audio receptors as loud rock music blasted in his cranium. Then he felt the impact of a small shell in his thigh and he went down. The music stopped abruptly, and he groaned and glanced up at the two bots staring down at him. Bluestreak nervously wrung his hands.

"Sorry sir, it's just that we knew someone was over here but we didn't know who or where specifically and we knew if we scared whoever it was they would jump up and we really just had to shoot you because that's how you win the game. No hard feelings right?" Optimus placed his hands over his optics.

"No hard feelings, Blue."

"Nice shot, buddy!" Blaster slapped the gunner on the back, causing him to lurch forward. "Can't wait for the others to hear 'bout this!"

Optimus just groaned again.

* * *

><p>AN Hooray for Chapter three! I really really hope you guys liked it! I don't know if I may have over explained some things (Because I do that sometimes) and if I have, I am sorry. Also I would like to say that I didn't include any of the Dinobots in this game because they're no good at stealth and would get shot faster than Blurr could say Cybertron.

It seems that the Decepticons are winning, seeing as they've captured so many bots, right? Well you still don't know what's going on with Ironhide, Mirage, Warpath, Jazz, Powerglide and the like! So 'till next time my fantasmic readers!


	4. Still Playing

A/N Hey guys! Sorry there was no update last week. It's because I wrote a one-shot, if you wanna go read it ^^. And it took me forever to write, so I'm updating this week instead. This chapter will take place at the same time as last chapter.

Anyone else hear that Michael Bay just signed up to do Transformers 4? It comes out in two years, but I am stoked! Anyway, on with the fic!

* * *

><p>Powerglide pushed aside the branches of the tree he was currently residing in. He humphed to himself and crossed his arms, leaning back against the tree. He knew enough not to fly out in the open because he would be easily seen, but being on the ground still irked him. <em>How do the guys survive like this? <em>He wondered to himself. He couldn't imagine not being able to take to the skies whenever he pleased, feeling the caress of the wind across his wingspan. But still he crouched in the tree, waiting for Inferno to move out from under the tree so he could get down. Inferno had no idea that Powerglide was just above him, but the jet had been startled and dropped his gun when he had sen the mech in the distance. Quickly jumping into the tree, Powerglide had not been seen and was now staring intently at his gun. If Inferno moved another foot to the left he would step on it, but the blasted oaf wouldn't move. Inferno put his hand to the side of his helm, receiving a transmission from Ironhide.

"Affirmative." Powerglide heard Inferno whisper. Then the search and rescue bot got down on one knee with his gun pointed forward. Powerglide looked down on him, not quite sure what was going on. Soon though Ironhide appeared and Inferno waved at him. The third red mech to join the small area came over next to Inferno.

"Spotted anythang yet Inferno?" Ironhide drawled.

"Nuthin' out here far as I can see." Inferno also drawled. Powerglide had to hold in his laughter, both at their accents melding together and the fact that he was standing right above them and they still had no idea. He began to make faces at them, though you couldn't really tell because of his mouthplate. Through his stifled giggles Powerglide knew he would have to get away soon. Ironhide had superior olfactory sensors to most bots, and he would detect him soon. He glanced back down to the two oblivious mechs talking about possible locations for the Decepticon's flag. He still needed his gun! Powerglide noticed the small cone-shaped things hanging around him. _Pine cones._ His processor supplied. He picked a couple off their branches, fingering them in his large hand. _Now or never!_ He thought, and chucked the cones to his left. The rustle of the small objects startled the two Autobots and they leaped to their feet, guns poised. Inferno did not have long to stand though as a bright red jet landed on top of him, knocking him to the ground. Snatching his gun Powerglide jumped into the air and activated his thrusters.

"See you around, bolt brains!" He laughed as he transformed. Although what Powerglide had not expected was Ironhide's quick reaction, and there was a sudden impact in his tail fin and then a buzzing throughout his whole frame. "Oh no. Not good."

Mirage was digging some dirt up from a small hill looking for the flag when he heard a shot fired out. He looked up. "Oh slag me." And with that Powerglide crash landed. Right on top of Mirage.

* * *

><p>Bumblebee came out of yet another cave, covered helm to pede with dirt, grime, and dust. He was a scout and this was his job, but it was getting rather ridiculous. He had been in more than half a dozen caves, large and small, and still found nothing. It was taking a long time anyway, for Bumblebee really didn't want to run into anyone on the opposing team. He had ducked behind so many rocks by now that he was starting to forget how to stand up straight. He sighed and glanced around, looking for another cave. Logic, Prowl had said, stood to show that the Autobot team probably hid their flag in a cave. It made sense, Bumblebee thought. Caves were confusing, and it was easy to get lost. Plus there was only one entrance and only one exit. Bumblebee had no trouble with the complexity of the caves though. He could store the layout of every cave in the mountain into his memory banks if he desired. That was part of being a scout, knowing when and how to get out if necessary. He heard a shot ring out followed by a yell and a crash. Bumblebee hit the dirt, peering over the ledge to look at the downed Powerglide. Ironhide was laughing over him, and Inferno seemed to be pulling something blue out from under the jet. Bumblebee opened up a comm. link with Prowl.<p>

"Bumblebee to Prowl, come in sir."

"Yes Bumblebee, go ahead."

"Powerglide down and out, Ironhide got him." He looked back down at the scene below him.

"Acknowledged. I will contact Ratchet and see what he can do. Continue your search."

"Yes sir." Bumblebee cut the link. Standing once again Bumblebee wished his comrade good luck. He turned on his heel and proceeded into the next cave. With each turn he made his mind was constructing a 3D map of the cave, marking each hiding place and prominent advantage point. The sensory horns on his helm were telling him everything he needed to know and then some. He really did not need to know the precipitation level in the dank cave, but he knew it anyway. Leaning forward slightly he rounded another corner. And stared into the barrel of a gun.

He jumped back immediately and withdrew his own gun. He looked past the weapon pointed at him to the bot holding it.

"Well if it ain't my own little scout." Jazz cocked his head to the side. Bumblebee grimaced. Jazz was his mentor and had taught him everything he knew. This was going to be challenging.

"Hey Jazz, fancy seeing you here." Bumblebee quipped.

"Ya know I ain't gonna go easy on ya, right kid?" Jazz placed his servo on his hip.

"Wouldn't have it any other way."

Jazz fired a shot at his student, but Bumblebee cartwheeled to the left. He leaped up onto a ridge and aimed, but Jazz was gone. _Sneaky saboteur. _Bumblebee thought. Jazz had taught him this trick, how to slip away silently when your opponent was distracted, but that still didn't help him locate the missing bot.

The cave was fairly tall, enough for Optimus to stand in comfortably and reach his hands up and probably still not reach the roof. Bumblebee jumped down and backed up against a wall. Looking for cover would be a bad idea. Jazz was probably behind one of the boulders that he would need. Back against the wall, Jazz couldn't sneak up behind him. Bumblebee reached down and picked up a fairly sized rock and tossed it behind a large boulder. A small _thunk _let Bumblebee know it hit the dirt. He picked up another rock a chucked it behind another boulder to his left, all the while glancing side to side to make sure Jazz didn't sneak up on him. The rock flew behind the boulder, and Bumblebee heard a barely audible _clink._

_Gotcha_ Bumblebee grinned. He jumped to his right and ran forward to catch his mentor. Jazz yelped and leaped from behind his shelter, firing at Bumblebee, all the while musing that Bumblebee was making progress. He wasn't doing so bad. The scout was practically bouncing back and forth dodging shots, and Jazz couldn't nail him.

He clenched his denta together as Bumblebee whirled around and ran deeper into the cave. Jazz barely had time to wonder what the scout was thinking before he followed after him. The tunnel became tighter, but then opened up into another wide space, about as large as two football fields. Jazz knew this area, he had been guarding it for a while. He needed to stop Bumblebee now!

There was no exit from this cave, save the entrance, and this large open area was the back of the cave. Bumblebee stood in the middle of it behind a large stalagmite. Jazz tried his best not to flick his optics to the up where the flag was jammed in a stalactite, but Bumblebee was unaware. His processor was whirring, trying to come up with a possible escape route. Jazz was blocking the exit, but then the black and white bot began to move sideways. Bumblebee watched as Jazz tried to circle him, and when he was far enough away Bumblebee almost ran for it, but he stopped. Jazz wasn't stupid, why was he letting him have a free run? Bumblebee suddenly realized that the flag must be in this cave! He looked around but didn't see it. Jazz noticed the light bulb go off in the yellow minibot's helm and fired, but Bumblebee was too quick. Now Jazz was more determined than ever!

* * *

><p>Trailbreaker huffed once again. After losing Sunstreaker, he was determined to make up for it. He decided he would look for the flag. He knew that was Bumblebee's job but it never hurt to have some extra help right? He walked up to the base of the mountain and began to climb. His pede slipped once or twice, but he finally made it to one of the caves. He entered it, but quickly turned back around and ran out. He hit the dirt as a swarm of bats came flying out at him. The little pests quickly flew off, but Trailbreaker wasn't sure where. He lifted his helm back up to look in the cave. The flag couldn't be in there or the other team would have scared the bats off before when they were hiding their flag. <em>One down, three dozen more caves to go. <em>Trailbreaker groaned. Maybe he should stick with defending the flag. But he kept on going.

He entered another cave, this one very tall. He glanced around when something shiny caught his optic. He walked over and picked it up. It was bullet from one of the stun guns. Trailbreaker concluded that there must have been a fight here. He placed the bullet in subspace for later use if he ran out of ammo and continued on into the cave. The tunnel became very narrow until he came into an open area.

"Bumblebee!" He called out when he spotted the scout.

"Trailbreaker! Watch for Jazz!" Bumblebee called over his shoulder. He had been running his processor wild for a long time about how to find the flag. Maybe Trailbreaker could help him. Trailbreaker pulled out his gun and swept the area for the Porsche. Jazz couldn't help but feel downcast. The odds were against him now. He opened a comm. link.

"Hey Warpath, mind lendin' a bot a servo?"

...

"They found it, didn't they?" Dread could be heard over the link.

"Yeah, kinda. So get your aft over here!"

"_Bang! _On my way sir." Warpath cut the link. Jazz smiled. It was gonna be a Pit of a party.

* * *

><p>Warpath had already been on the run anyway, so now that he had an excuse to hide away instead of turning and facing the bot who was chasing him, he gladly accepted it.<p>

"Get back here and face me, you little fragger!" Ratchet's voice practically cut loud and clear through the woods, but he didn't seem to care. He really didn't need to because he knew no one was dumb enough to came after him. In fact, most bots that heard his bellow were currently running in the opposite direction, no matter which team they were on. One does not simply interrupt a medic when he is angry. Warpath was usually fearless, but right now he was afraid of the consequences of shooting the CMO.

He knew transforming was not an option because his alt mode was unbearably slow, so he tore through the trees in a fury. Left, right, right, left, right, front flip over a bush (which is extremely difficult with a gun barrel affixed to your chest), anything to escape the wrath of the doc bot. Finally he burst out of the trees and ran towards the cave where the flag was, the medic no where in sight. He vented a sigh of relief and busted into the cave with a loud calvary song that echoed throughout. "I'm coming for you Jazz! _ZING_"

* * *

><p>Powerglide and Hound sat back-to-back in a small cave. Powerglide rubbed his sore helm where he had crashed.<p>

"So who got you?" Powerglide asked.

"Prowl. But I got Cliffjumper just before he shot me. Watch your back, Prowl's hiding in the trees."

"He's not the only one." Powerglide grunted.

"Why? Who got you?"

"Ironhide."

"Ironhide's hiding in a tree? How on Cybertron did he even get up there?"

"No not him, me. He shot me down after I took off and then guess what? I crashed on Mirage. The old Towers mech is gonna kill me. Hey stop laughing, it isn't funny!"

* * *

><p>AN There you have it! Chapter 4! Hope you liked it! Ended the cave thing on a cliffhanger because... well, you'll see! I also have a video recommendation for you! I spent most of my week watching videos made by Zeusis1 on Youtube. Just look up 'TF: Forsaken' and you have it. It's really good, and I recommend any and all of his (her?) videos, especially 'Sock of Dirt' and 'TF: A Girl Worth Fighting For'. They're hilarious and really good! Yes I am shamelessly promoting someone, but I really like this guy. See you next time!


	5. A New Twist

"Hey uh, Frenzy? You seeing this?"

"What are you... Hey! That Soundwave wannabe has a gun to Prime's helm!"

"Lower your vocalizer, you scrap-heap!"

Frenzy and Rumble each stood behind a large pine tree a short distance from the _Ark_, peering around. They had been sent there to infiltrate the Autobot ship to acquire data on the latest fuel reserve that the Autobots had been privy to, but they couldn't seem to remember that at the moment.

"I don't believe my optics, Rumble. Something isn't right." Frenzy gaped.

Rumble looked a little closer at the scene. Then he grabbed his brother's arm and shook it.

"He's got a Decepticon symbol! The other one too! Forget the mission, we need to tell the Boss Bot about this."

Frenzy tilted his helm to the side. "There was a mission?"

* * *

><p>Optimus Prime and his captors walked across the small clearing towards the woods. Optimus sighed and batted at the muzzle of the gun still pointed at the back of his helm. "For the last time Blaster, please put your gun down."<p>

"No can do Prime, gotta make sure you don't make a fast break!" He smirked.

"I don't think Optimus would do that Blaster. He's usually true to his word you know, that's why he's the Autobot leader. And he wouldn't cheat, would you Prime?" Bluestreak gazed up at the taller bot.

"No Bluestreak, I wouldn't."

"I'm just playing the part," Blaster chuckled. "I am a Decepticon, you know!"

There was a faint clang to their right, and all three bots turned to the sound with their guns raised, even though Optimus couldn't really do anything since he had been captured. No movement was made, and the three hesitantly continued.

* * *

><p>"See! You could've just gotten us terminated right there Rumble! What'd ya hit me for?"<p>

"For your stupidity. Let's head back to the Nemesis."

Both cons waited until the coast was clear before leaping into the air and flying back to their base.

"I don't get it either, lord Megatron, but it's what we saw with our own optics." Frenzy finished their report. Megatron contemplated this, one servo held to his chin in thought. The Decepticon leader found it hard to believe that a stupid, loyal Autobot would hold a gun to his own leader's helm. He leaned back in his high throne and threaded his fingers together.

"Soundwave, possible explanations for this _absurdity_." He commanded.

Soundwave's monotone reached across the throne room. "Situations: Possible virus, possible training exercise, possible mutiny." He concluded. Megatron stood from his seat to pace. He began to process out loud, though it was only Starscream, Soundwave, and his mini-cassettes in the room.

"Neither virus nor training exercise explains the Decepticon symbols. _Mutiny_... is plausible."

"A mutiny?" Starscream's whine of a voice made Megatron shutter his optics, but he stopped and turned his helm slightly to glance at his SIC. "The Autobots practically adore their leader, unlike Decepticons." At this he crossed his arms and smirked. Megatron resisted the urge to throttle the life energy from the jet, instead asking him a question. "Then what explanation do you have for all of this, Starscream?"

"**I** believe it's only a training exercise. Only a fool would believe otherwise."

Megatron leveled a glare at the tri-colored jet and placed one servo on his hip. "Ravage has observed many of the Autobot's training periods. Clearly they are not as well-prepared as they think, but not once have they used our symbols. I hold my theory. The Autofools are working against their leader. Rumble!" He looked down near his pedes.

"What?"

"How many others did you see with our symbols?"

"About a dozen or so. Some of them seemed to be hiding."

"And without?"

"I dunno, maybe seven or eight." He shrugged and leaned against the purple wall.

"There are more Autobots than that... maybe more mutinous Autobots too." Megatron nodded his head. "Starscream, alert strike teams. We're going to pick up some new allies."

* * *

><p>Bumblebee dodged yet another shot from his mentor, Trailbreaker following close behind him. A loud shout rang out from the neck of the cave. The only part Trailbreaker understood was a loud <em>ZING, <em>but that was enough to let him know they had a hyped-up tank headed their way. The red minibot came into view and Trailbreaker leveled his gun at him. He fired just as Warpath ran to the other side of the cave to avoid the shot. He continued to yell, his loud voice echoing off the walls and driving Bumblebee's extremely sensitive sensors insane. He placed his servos on his sensory horns to try to drown out the information overload, but to no avail. Jazz was having the same problem and he told the loudmouth so. Warpath cut his calvary song short, shrugging and scratching his helm embarrassedly. When silence overcame, Bumblebee and Jazz both froze and slowly stood up.

"Ya hear that too, right kid?" Jazz asked at his scout.

"Yeah, and I don't like it."

Warpath glanced around confused. "Hear what? I don't _BLAM _hear anything!"

"Quiet Warpath!" Trailbreaker urged, straining his audios to hear it. It started as a faint buzz, just tickling his receptors, but Jazz and Bumblebee were already hurdling toward the cave's exit. The tank and the Toyota quickly followed behind them, stopping short as soon as they reached the opening.

By now many of the bots on both teams, and some who had been in the _Ark_, had come out into the open on a temporary unsaid ceasefire. The buzzing had grown to the recognizable sound of Seeker engines. Most of the bots aimed their guns at the sky when a few Decepticons dropped to the ground on the side of the volcano,weapons at the ready, only a dozen or so meters above where Jazz and the others stood. Five more, Starscream and his trine, Megatron, and Soundwave, landed on the ground in front of the Autobots. The Autobots waited for the Decepticons to make the first move as usual, and were surprised when Megatron stepped forward, gun arm held passively at his side.

"All Autobots sick of their sad oppression are free to join the conquering the Decepticons!"

A silence settled over the clearing and Megatron started to get impatient. "Well?"

"Have you got yer circuits crossed Megatron? What're you goin' on about?" Ironhide broke the quiet. Megatron looked around nervously. He could still see the purple Decepticon insignia on many of the Autobots' chests. "But... the mutiny... why..."

"Is that what you thought, Megsy? Mutiny? HAH!" Sideswipe crowed. He leveled his gun at Skywarp and fired. The purple and black jet gasped as he was hit just to the right of his cockpit and went down.

"I'VE BEEN HIT! I'VE BEEN HIT! OH PRIMUS, I CAN'T FEEL MY... Hey wait, yeah I can." He flexed his arms experimentally and lifted his leg. He looked back at the red warrior and raised an optic ridge to convey his confusion. Thundercracker walked over to his trine-mate and snatched the bullet out, causing Skywarp to jolt backwards. "PRIMUS-FRAGGIT THAT HURT WORSE THAN THE ACTUAL SHOT!" He screamed, though Thundercracker paid him no mind. He examined the small bullet, then handed it to Megatron. "It's only a stun, Megatron."

Starscream pointed his finger angrily at his leader, "I knew it! I told you, but you wouldn't listen, and now we look like complete idiots!"

"Silence!" Megatron yelled. He glared down at his enemy and could see the tell-tale signs of a smile at the corners of his optics. The smile grew bigger until Optimus could no longer hold it and he started laughing along with Sideswipe. Jazz couldn't help but laugh too, and Bumblebee and Hound joined in. Soon almost all of the Autobots were laughing, and the only one who wasn't (Ratchet) was having a hard time trying not to, still succumbing to a large half grin, half smirk.

Megatron was furious. No, he was far past furious. He was embarrassed, and that only fueled his anger. He would not take this, being made a mockery of. He let out an unearthly yell of pure rage and launched the bullet he had been clenching in his servo at his foes. He began to fire wildly at the gathering of Autobots, who quickly stopped laughing and began firing back. There was only one problem in that none of the Autobots had actual weapons or ammo. They still shot and began the laughing cycle all over again as Decepticons were hit, would fall over frozen, and get back up to fight. It looked as though they were tripping indefinitely, falling and rising over and over. Soon the shock of being paralyzed again and again began to wear on the Decepticons' systems, and they pulled out at Megatron's cry of retreat, leaving their foes to laugh at their expense.

The Autobots soon got over their laughing streak, sitting on the ground and giggling. Prowl looked up and over at Prime.

"So do we start the-"

"I GOT IT!" Every helm turned to see Trailbreaker standing in the mouth of a cave waving a red flag over his helm. Many bots groaned, many bots cheered, and there were several cries of "That's not fair!" and "Hey, where were you during the battle?" but Trailbreaker just smiled, happy that he had made up for losing Sunstreaker.

* * *

><p>In the end it was decided that Prowl's team, the Decepticons, won. It did not go unnoticed that the Decepticon attack helped the makeshift Decepticons win the game. It was later discovered that Trailbreaker had not been present during the attack, choosing instead to search for the flag. Though his motives were questioned and he was given a double-shift for the next week, he was regarded as a hero for the Decepticon team, and was given a nice trophy courtesy of Jazz, never the sore loser.<p>

How Trailbreaker got to the top of the cavern is still a mystery.

* * *

><p>AN This wonderful plot twist was given to me by the amazing padawanjinx. I had been having a difficult time coming up with a suitable ending, but this one seemed to work. So, Thank you so much! I hope you guys enjoyed it! R&R is appreciated!

I do not own anything is this story. Transformers belongs to Hasbro.

'Till All Are One'


	6. CANNONBALL!

A/N Is it? Could it really be? YES! IT IS! AN UPDATE!

I know it's been a while, and I would give you all of my excuses but you're here to read about funny alien robots, not my social life right? So I'll spare you the details.

JaAm does not own Transformers. She does however own one Starscream toy from McDonald's. SQUEE!

On the the story!

* * *

><p>Sideswipe flew lazily through the air, aided by his jet pack. Of course, lazily meant at about sixty miles an hour, but who cared? Suddenly he cut power to his jet pack, curled up into a tight ball and plummeted 200 feet downward.<p>

"CANNONBALL!"

Sunstreaker looked up just in time to see a red blur heading straight for him. "MOVE!" He called, grabbing Bluestreak by his forearm in a rare show of gallantry, as mechs scattered in all directions. Sideswipe hit the ocean with a huge explosion of water reaching high in the air. Underwater, Sideswipe swiveled his body and shot towards the air. Breaking the surface, he called out to his twin.

"Did you see that splash? How high was it?"

"Not high enough." Came the gruff reply, but not from the right person. Sideswipe looked around before being dragged back under with a startled, quite unmechly cry. As the bubbles cleared he came optic to optic with Ironhide, who looked positively livid. Sideswipe wrung his servos.

"Umm... Hi Ironhide... uh... PLEASE DON'T KILL ME!"

Both bots shot off in an underwater pursuit as others watched and Smokescreen began taking bets. Sunstreaker, who still had a hold on Bluestreak, shook his helm and mumbled, "Aft."

Bluestreak looked up at him. "Uh, is Sideswipe's jet pack waterproof?"

Sunstreaker ran a hand down his face. "Idiotic aft."

"Nice, ain't it?" Jazz asked Mirage, who came on the ocean getaway for the peace. He wasn't getting much of it. He grumbled something about dismantling certain bots, then turned to Jazz. "I'm sorry, you said something?" He sighed.

"Ya know, floatin'? Not sinkin' soon as ya hit the water?"

Mirage leaned back to float facing the sky. He offlined his optics and vented in the salty air.

"Yes, every now and then Wheeljack comes up with something worthwhile."

When the Decepticons attacked Sparkplug's oil rig when they first woke up from their long time in stasis, staying afloat in the water had been one of the most difficult parts for the Autobots. They were struggling just to stay above water, most bots balancing on submerged pipes or clinging to railings. A small few, like Brawn, had been to other organic planets before crashing on Earth and remembered how to swim, but not for very long.

After that incident, Wheeljack had been working on a way to keep the Autobots from immediately being pulled underwater. He had constructed small,yet very powerful fans that were to be stored on the bottom of a mech's foot. These could be engaged as so desired, to sink or float. The Decepticons had apparently managed to come up with something similar, but what exactly was not quite known. Now the Autobots were taking advantage of the invention, having a day off at the beach. They figured, what with the Decepticons' last humiliating defeat, there wouldn't be any kind of attack for a long while.

* * *

><p>Cliffjumper stood on the ocean floor, arms crossed, watching indifferently as schools of fish swam by him, equally as disinterested. Why they were wasting their time <em>swimming <em>instead of kicking the Decepticons' afts was beyond him. But he had been ordered to go and relax, unwind they said. Optimus and Ratchet both seemed to think he was overworking. Humph.

Cliffjumper knitted his optic ridges together as a particularly ugly brown spotted fish crossed his view. He batted at the thing, but it just kept floating on as though their wasn't a cherry colored alien trying to swat it. Cliffjumper glared at it. So focused on his glaring was he that he didn't notice a large gray form coming towards him at a rather quick pace. When he finally did see it, his optics widened to phenomenal proportions. The long form was headed right for him, so Cliffjumper's instincts took over. He paddled madly at an upward slant, his fans working overtime, his yelling slightly muffled by the water. "ITS GONNA EAT ME!"

Trailbreaker watched from a distance as Cliffjumper suddenly came out of the water and into view, screaming about underwater sea life. He turned to Hound. "Isn't this Shark Week?"

"Yeah, why?"

"Just wondering," He replied, gazing down through the water at the small dolphin now nuzzling at his ankle.

* * *

><p>Bumblebee backed up, shuttering his optics slightly in the bright sun. Then something came into his line of sight, blocking the light. He reached his fist back, wind direction and speed unnecessarily becoming apparent to him, and hit the object with the flat of his hand. He stood up straight and watched as it flew back in the other direction.<p>

The volleyball just barely cleared the net, prompting Powerglide to dive for it. He hit the dirt and smacked the ball up before it could hit the ground. Before he could gloat however, the ball went up and then straight back down onto his head. Brawn, Windcharger, and Bumblebee burst into laughter as Warpath and Beachcomber went forward to help their teammate up.

"I'm fine!" Powerglide shrugged Beachcomber's hand off his shoulder, his pride hurt worse than his frame anyway. Sand was everywhere in his joints too. Why had he come on this little trip again?

"So what's the score now, Warpath? Twenty to three?" Brawn quipped, hands on his hips.

"_BLAM!_ Fifteen to six, and don't you get _SHAZANG! _cocky!"

"This is gonna be over quick, I can tell," Windcharger whispered to Bumblebee, who nodded in response.

Spike sat at the sideline, watching what Wheeljack had dubbed 'Minibot Ball'. Windcharger's quick movements, Bumblebee precise aim and senses, and Brawn's brute strength were helping them win, he noted, while Powerglide's big head and need to show off were killing his team. Plus Beachcomber kept glancing off to the side whenever some fish or another leaped from the water and caught his attention. Spike leaned back in his chair as Powerglide engaged in a battle of wits with Brawn. It would probably be a while before the game got going again.

He glanced over to Blaster and Hot Spot, who had somehow managed to acquire an Autobot-sized Frisbee. Originally he had wanted to join them, but then realized he would inevitably get squished. _Like the squishy I am_ He thought to himself and smiled.

* * *

><p>Bluestreak had had enough of the ocean for a while. He swam back to the shore line, watching as Brawn jumped up close to a suspended net and slammed a white ball into the ground on the other side of it. Apparently this was a good thing, since Bumblebee and Windcharger both cheered. Powerglide looked ready to split bolts.<p>

Finally coming onto semi-dry land, Bluestreak sat down with his legs facing the sea. There weren't any oceans on Cybertron, and the water surrounding your frame was a delight only Autobots stranded on an organic planet could appreciate. The water rose up to Bluestreak's knee joint and receded back the way it came, endlessly repeating the cycle. The gunner wondered what made the waves, storing the question in his memory banks for whenever Perceptor turned up. The scientist had wandered off a while back and no one knew quite where he had gone. Strange that no one seemed concerned. Wheeljack seemed to think he would turn up eventually.

Shrugging off the worries, Bluestreak flipped around and figured he would do something he saw some human kids doing on TV one time. He grabbed a handful of sand and made a mound, shaping it into a sort of rectangle thing. He reached out a cupped hand for some water from the rising waves, then drizzled it over his hill. He scooped up some more sand, smoothing it out, rounding it, and making large ridges. He saw Spike approaching in the corner of his optic. The human's mouth was just slightly agape as he walked over to Bluestreak with a look of awe. The teenager whistled.

"That's some sandcastle you got there Blue!" He had to look up just to see the top of it. It was almost three times his size with spiraling towers, windows... and was that a patio?

Bluestreak reached over and picked up the boy, placing him on the flat roof. Spike shifted his weight to see if it would hold him, but Bluestreak had patted the sand down firmly enough.

"I'm sure Grapple could do better," He shrugged. "He loves architecture you know, and I'm sure he would love doing something like this if he was here."

"It's still bigger than any sandcastle that I've ever seen," Spike said, surveying the little details that the gunner had added. "I might just move in!"

"Well, it isn't exactly hollow. I wish I could figure out a way to make the inside actually available for you to walk around in. But don't humans usually live in houses made of wood or brick or something?"

"Yeah, but this could be my vacation home!" Spike hoped he knew he was kidding. Bluestreak picked Spike back up and set him back on the ground.

"Alright Spike, I'll see what I can do!" Spike was about to object, but the Datsun just looked so happy as he set to work. Ah, what harm could it do?

* * *

><p>Perceptor walked calmly down the beach, headed back for the area the Autobots had claimed for themselves. He held a few rock and plant samples in his hands and even more in his subspace. Ratchet wasn't particularly keen on his bringing organic materials into his lab whenever something interested him, but out here he was free to examine what he pleased. A small glint caught his eye and he turned slightly to see golden flecks in the sand. He subspaced the samples that no longer held his interest and transformed to get a closer look at the new specimen to see if it was really what he thought it was.<p>

"Aha! Just as I suspected! Not pyrite, but gold!" The little flecks were small, but there were definitely a lot of them, and he knew the worth of the shiny metal to the natives. This much ought to at least grant him enough Earth currency to buy that new electromagnetic pulse generator he so desired, since Ratchet wouldn't let him borrow his.

The medic was so overprotective of his possessions sometimes.

As giddy as a scientist could possibly be while only slightly looking like a school girl (and resisting the urge to yell EUREKA!), he began to pan the sand out in his palms, the sand sliding over the edges of his hands while the slightly heavier gold mostly stayed put. After about twenty minutes of collecting the rare metal (for a scientist must have interminable patience) he stood up and decided that he had enough. The small rocks filled one large hand, more than what he needed. He was just about to subspace this too when he heard someone cry out.

"Perceptor! Heads up!" The microscope didn't even have time to wonder who had called out to him before suddenly something large crashed into his side. He cried out, hands flailing to gain purchase on anything as he went down. He collided with the dirt, but the heavy metal object stayed on top of him. Then the thing moaned. Perceptor would recognize that groan of pain anywhere.

"Sideswipe, if you -ugh- would be -mph- so kind as to GET OFF OF ME!" He grunted, trying to shove the red warrior off of himself. Sideswipe just groaned.

Another red warrior, this one Ironhide, came into view, hands on his hips. He pulled Sideswipe off and threw him back onto the ground, then hefted Perceptor up. He mumbled a quick, barely audible apology before grabbing Sideswipe by the armpit and dragging him down the beach. Perceptor stretched his joints, none the worse for wear besides a few scratches. Then he realized something.

He had dropped his gold.

He glanced around in a slight panic, looking for his jewels. Then he saw that most of his collection had fallen relatively close together near the shore.

Apparently Primus was not on his side today.

The waves rose higher, coming over all of the gold. When the wave receded, none of it remained, lost to the seas. Perceptor gaped at the sea. He glared at the ground as thought his lost riches would suddenly come back if he scared it into submission. Unfortunately Perceptor just isn't all that scary. He huffed again and spun on his heel, mumbling Cybertronian obscenities all the way back.

Frag the electromagnetic pulse generator.

* * *

><p>Prowl placed his data pad back down on the table, enjoying the rare silence that had settled over the base. With the absence of the Lamborghinis, Wheeljack, Blaster, Jazz, anyone and everyone who was loud, the Ark had been a peaceful place. For once the Rec Room was silent. He sighed in contentment, glancing over at the equally relaxed Ratchet and Autobot Commander. Ratchet still had his wrench at his side in case First Aid suddenly decided to sing the song that never ends or Huffer randomly wanted to learn how to play the cymbals, but since none of that seemed likely, much less logical, they were all at ease. Ratchet lifted his head and placed one finger on the side of his helm.<p>

"Ratchet here, go ahead." His expression became one of disbelief, then consideration, then quickly morphed into anger. He pushed himself from his seat and stomped down towards the Med Bay.

"I'll destroy them both! And turn his jet pack into a toaster oven! And then I'll destroy that too!" He yelled. Prowl resisted the urge smirk, but Optimus didn't. He chuckled.

"Well, the little trip must be going well,"

"Oh yes," Prowl lifted one hand. "They've managed to stay out there for a total of four hours. I can only wonder what else they've done out there."

"I have a feeling we don't want to know."

* * *

><p>AN This just in! The World Record for largest sandcastle has just been broken! I imagine it will be in the Guinness Book of World Records sometime soon, so keep an eye out for it! Mostly a sort of collection of drabbles, but you know. If you see any gramatical or spelling errors, please let me know! Next update shouldn't take so long. See you next time!

JaAm


	7. Under the Sea

"So, what do you think?"

"I think you are an idiot."

"Not me! The painting!" The mech almost seemed oblivious to the insult.

"The painting thinks you are an idiot too," The other responded coolly.

"You have no appreciation for the finer arts."

Thundercracker crossed his arms and looked sideways at the large piece of artwork before him. You could hardly call it art though.

"Is it... the flag of America?"

"Well duh!" Skywarp seemed offended now, waving a hand in the direction of his so-called masterpiece. Thundercracker's wings twitched as he leaned over to inspect it. The small organics that were native to this mudball were fanatic about hanging their country's flag almost everywhere. It was hard to ignore this country's flag since they had one on practically every city block and learning center, and on quite a few houses. The strange pattern was almost ingrained in Thundercracker's processor, but even if it hadn't been he still would have known that something was off. The paint had been lazily applied, drops of one color running down over others. Plus he was pretty sure the blue part wasn't an oval, and the stripes were supposed to be horizontal, right?

"It looks amazing, Skywarp." He sighed.

"You really mean it?" The black and purple jet had a look of glee in his optics.

"No, not really."

"Frag you." Skywarp turned his back to his wing mate.

"So now what are you going to do with it?"

Skywarp turned his helm and looked at him funny. "I'm going to keep it," He said as though it were obvious.

"Where, exactly? Not in your quarters I hope. You barely have room enough to recharge there."

"Maybe I'll hang it up in the Rec Room or something," He said, flipping his hands casually.

Thundercracker suddenly looked nervous. If anyone saw that Skywarp was actually trying to replicate a human design, he and his trine would be the laughingstock of the _Nemesis._ "I don't think that's such a good idea..."

"And why not?" Skywarp placed his hands on his hips.

"You know how many fights occur in the Rec Room. It'll get smashed. Plus, it's still a terrible painting," Skywarp looked back at his art and sighed.

"There's just no pleasing you, is there TC?"

"Not unless you suddenly go mute. And don't call me that."

Skywarp ignored the blue jet in favor of looking completive. He walked around the his workmanship with one hand stroking his chin. Then he turned back to Thundercracker. "Do you think if I give it to the squishies' leader he'll give us free energy?"

Thundercracker had the grace to at least pretend to mull it over before replying, "No." Skywarp just shrugged.

Thundercracker shook his helm and began to walk out of the room when something occurred to him. "Skywarp? What materials did you use to make that?"

"The canvas, blue paint, red paint, white paint, paintbrush," He counted off each of the objects on his fingers as he went. "Why?"

"Where did you get it all?" He almost regretted asking the question as soon as it left his vocalizer.

"Well the canvas is just a bunch of cloth I found draped over some house. The paintbrush I got from my collection of giant things."

Thundercracker's left optic twitched, so Skywarp took that as a sign to explain further.

"I started my collection when we first landed here. Well, after we woke up I mean. I noticed how everything was so small so I began picking up everything that was our size. I have a big thing I think the squishies call a doughnut that can fit around your wrist." He held up his own arm for emphasis.

"And...the paintbrush?"

"Pulled it off of some building," He snatched the object in question out of subspace and tossed it from hand to hand, smiling. "Neat, huh?"

Thundercracker tilted his helm to one side. "And the paint came with it?"

"Umm... no. Why do you think I painted a red, white, and blue flag?"

Thundercracker and Skywarp both cringed at a sudden, very high-pitched shriek from out in the hallway. "SKYWARP!"

Skywarp saluted to Thundercracker. "See ya, I'll be hiding for the next few joors." And in a flash of purple, he was gone. Thundercracker was not so Primus-blessed with such a gift, and so he turned in a circle furiously looking for a place to hide. He dove behind a pile of crates just as a familiar frame walked into the room.

Well, the frame was familiar. Everything else, not so much. Starscream was positively _fuming, _fists clenched at his sides and optics nothing short of murderous. The three colors on his body were unnaturally pale and scratched, especially his hands. Thundercracker had to clap his own servos over his mouth to keep from laughing as he recalled Starscream's latest punishment for trying to blast Megatron in the back: scrubbing the outside of the _Nemesis_. The water had significantly dulled the Starscream's paintjob, and Skywarp had just used all of the tri-colored Seeker's paint for the entire month.

The blue jet quietly tiptoed to the exit, unnoticed by Starscream who was looking at the sloppy rendition of a flag with a glare that was half fury and half confusion. Thundercracker had just gotten a few steps away from the door when he had a loud crash of splintering wood and the splatter of not-quiet-dry paint against the walls, followed by many Cybertronian expletives that not even the Autobots knew. He broke into a sprint, figuring if he could get far enough away from ground zero he could avoid getting involved.

But Skywarp was so dead.

* * *

><p>"HAHAHAHA!" Rumble leaned over with laughter while his brother struggled to hold the iPad up.<p>

"Never gets old!" Frenzy said, the video finally coming to an end for the third time. "That scientist is supposed to be some kinda genius, but even Skywarp doesn't get stuck inside the walls!"

"Can you imagine if he did? Wonder if we could trick him into it."

"Nah, he's dumb, but he ain't _that_ dumb. Maybe." More laughter ensued, resulting in a few strange looks from Blast Off and Vortex who were passing by and an irritated glance from Ravage. The three cassettes were hanging out in Soundwave's quarters for lack of anything better to do. Soundwave entered the room, and the twins struggled to contain their hysterics. The blue cassette tape merely walked past them all, but then turned back to them.

"Query: Where did you get that?"

Frenzy looked down at the iPad in his hand and fidgeted, "Found it." Soundwave didn't move so Rumble continued where his brother had left off.

"Yeah, we were just walkin' round in the park and this guy just dropped it in front of us. Don't know what he was so scared of." He finished with a casual shrug. Soundwave turned back to his computer without a response, but they were used to it and so took off. They ambled along down the hallway, throwing random insults at whoever passed by for no reason other than it was funny. They couldn't help but poke fun at Starscream for obvious reasons, but they eventually had to stop when Megatron walked by with a burning glare.

"So what else is there to do?" The blue cassette asked. "Wanna go raiding?"

"The electronic stores? Or maybe crash a concert?" Frenzy circled his brother, who's expression was becoming a sort of mischievous crossed with evil, a terrifying sight on the tiny mech.

"I have a better idea."

* * *

><p>"Okay, I'll get the big gray things while you open the gate on those furry orange ones."<p>

"They look more yellow to me."

"I don't really care! Get the things with the weird hair collars!"

"Gotcha!" Frenzy winked before crouching down and crawling on his hands and knees to the large cage. The creatures inside looked like furry yellow versions of Ravage. They looked just as lazy too. He came to the back of the cage where the latch was and studied it. He snorted. "Primitive. Not even encrypted." He stretched his hands, mock cracking his knuckles and cocked his head from one side to the other like all the awesome characters in the movies do. He clutched the lock and snatched it away, the metal bar snapping easily in his hands. He grabbed the edge of the door and held it wide open.

"Here kitty kitty!" He called, but the felines just yawned at him. Frenzy placed his hands on his hips and bit his lower lip. This just wouldn't do. He ran inside the cage, but stopped and glanced back for a moment to wonder why no one had seen him yet. He realized why when he saw Rumble standing on top of one of the massive gray things, making funny faces and rude gestures at the crowds of squishies yelling below him. Then he turned back to his own assignment. He carefully analyzed the situation, considering many variables and outcomes, deciding how to best receive the desired reaction. He went behind the creature farthest in the back and picked up its tail. The lazy thing, probably male, merely glanced at him.

"I wonder what would happen if I did THIS!" He gave the tail a hard yank and immediately the feline launched into the air. Frenzy sprinted wildly for the exit, the animal roaring behind him, several following in its wake. He laughed and ran faster, leaping over a wall and ducking behind it, losing the infuriated carnivores. Rumble was already there waiting for him, cycling air heavily.

"Man those things can _move_!" Rumble exclaimed, pointing back at the big animals he had released. Frenzy briefly wondered how animals so large could run as fast as they were, but quickly jumped up after his retreating brother. They stopped at the reptile house and smashed many of the glass containers and watched as the scaly things crawled out. Rumble paused for a moment, staring down at a particularly large snake.

"I've see one of them before..." But Frenzy grabbed his arm and yanked him away before he could consider it further.

* * *

><p>They sat on a hill watching the pandemonium occurring inside the city zoo. The sun was just setting behind it, giving it a sort of calm look, like organized chaos. Of course, if it weren't for the humans that insisted on screaming although it accomplished nothing and the wild calls of the lose animals it could have been more peaceful.<p>

"Day well spent, huh bro?" Rumble elbowed Frenzy.

"Well I don't think Megatron would agree, but I sure enjoyed it."

Rumble gazed on at the scene, then tilted his head at the sound of a siren. "And there are the Protectobots. We better scram." He pointed his thumb behind him.

"Yeah, let's get the frag outta here." And with that they began jumped into the air and flew home, strange zebra sounds, wild bird calls, and loud bellows slowly fading from their audios.

Wonder what tomorrow will bring?

* * *

><p>AN Yes, I am well aware that iPads had not been invented yet in the 1980s. But let's just pretend, shall we?

R&R please!


	8. A Day in the Life

A/N Okay, I have officially injected Transformers G1 into 2012. What with the iPads, YouTube, and me being too lazy to look up what they did and didn't have back in the 1980s. Plus this chapter probably involves a bunch of stuff they didn't have back then. This chapter, starring my favorite Decepticon!

* * *

><p>"Hello Oregon!"<p>

The lead singer, a girl by the name of Kimberly Perry, called out to the raving audience, waving her hands above her head. Her two brothers next to her waved likewise, and the fans screamed. Reid strummed a few chords on his bass guitar, and everyone recognized the song. Kimberly grabbed the microphone and was about to sing the first few lines when there was a loud crashing sound and the ground trembled.

"I LOVE THE BAND PERRY!"

Kimberly looked up to see a massive purple and black robot behind the rest of the audience, hands clasped together in what looked like absolute joy. Nobody else shared his enthusiasm as the lead singer screamed and ran back to her trailer. The rest of the band followed closely behind and the fans shrieked and scattered. Skywarp looked around and shrugged before taking to the skies, leaving the chaos behind.

"The Band Perry. What a weird name." He muttered to himself. He flew up close to a passing passenger plane and made faces at the window. The small human sparkling inside began leaking water from his optics and flailed its limbs. Skywarp could almost hear its cries from through the window. He waved at the sparkling before flying back off. Coming down onto a mountain, he sat down and leaned up against a tree. He snatched a branch down and began twiddling it between his fingers.

"What a weird concept too! Thousands of people crowding around to hear one tiny human stretch her vocalizer to create high pitched noises. Why?" He stood up and placed his hands on his hips. "I bet I'm a better singer than she is!" He held the branch up like a microphone "_If I offline young, bury-_" He stopped abruptly. "Okay, maybe not." He said, and sat back down.

"_Skywarp! Where are you?"_

Skywarp looked up, annoyed. He weighed his options on his hands, moving them up and down like a scale. His left hand went down as the right went up, and he sighed.

"_Oh, just around. So nice of Screamer to give me the day off, don't you think TC?"_

"_There is a difference between a day off and banishment. You do realize that right?"_

"_They both have the same results. I'm bored."_

Skywarp heard the sound of metal hitting metal and figured that Thundercracker had just face-palmed. He resisted the urge to laugh.

"_Well I have here with me a really pale, really ticked off SIC. So I hope you're happy."_

"_No, I'm not happy. I just told you, I'm bored." _

"_Well whatever you do, don't screw anything up. Megatron may be pleased with you, but Starscream is just looking for an excuse to bring you back and pound the living slag out of you. He told me so himself."_

"_Yeah well tell Screamer I'm not sorry." _He paused._ "By the way, if you do really tell him that, I would run very fast afterward."_

There was no reply, and Skywarp cut the connection. Starscream probably wouldn't want to see him again for a long time, and until Megatron got over his embarrassment there wouldn't be any raids or attacks that he could join in on. What's a Skywarp to do?

Skywarp stood back up and fanned his wings out, catching the light just so. He transformed and shot off into the air, hoping to find something at least remotely entertaining. He flew towards the city and banked around several buildings, coming really close to the windows of some of them and scaring the living daylights out of the people within. Skywarp knew better than to cause any damage though since neither of his trine mates were there with him to bail him out if the Autobots showed up. Not like they would help him anyway; they were both thoroughly fragged off at him right now. Skywarp knew he would owe TC when he returned. The blue jet was currently babysitting, as he put it, their screechy, angry higher officer. Skywarp figured some sympathetic spark would lend the tri-colored jet some paint sooner or later. That, or Hook would just get fed up with his whining and would disconnect his vocalizer. It wouldn't be the first time.

He circled around the park a few times, blowing kites around sending them crashing into trees. The small squishies scattered once again and Skywarp, bored yet again, flew off to find something better to do. He came to a small cave in the side of a mountain. _Exploration! _He thought, coming closer to the entrance. He placed one hand on the edge of the mouth of the cavern and turned up the lights in his optics to help him see better. Cautiously stepping forward, he swung his head left and right to glance at all the small nooks and crannies in the walls. Skywarp made a mental note to return to this place sometime later to use it as a secret storage room. He had a lot of hoarded energon in his quarters that could be moved here.

He continued on into the cave, stepping directly into many large puddles. It wasn't that he couldn't see them, it was just that he liked the splashing sound. Also it seemed to annoy the bats flying sporadically around his head, and there was nothing Skywarp enjoyed more than annoying others. He lightly snatched one of the bats out of the air, holding the small creature between to of his fingers. The little thing screeched at him, and Skywarp flicked it away.

"Ugh! I get enough of that from Starscream, thank you very much!" He grimaced. Eventually the bats seemed to calm down, returning to their spots on the ceiling. Skywarp tilted his helm as he noticed something peculiar about them.

"How..." He squinted. The things were hanging upside-down. Curious, Skywarp stood and got a closer look at them. Not thinking much about what he was about to do, he flipped over and stood on his hands. He stuck his feet up in the air, catching one in a crevice. Hesitantly, he lifted his hands off the ground. Hanging from the ceiling, he smiled smugly and crossed his arms, silently thankful that no one could see him.

"That is the last time I go spalinking with you!" An echoing voice in the distance said irritably.

"It's called spelunking. And don't blame me just because you got all muddy!"

Okay, well almost no one. The voices were distant, but familiar. Familiar was a bad thing right now.

Skywarp squirmed and twisted, but his foot was firmly shoved into the crevice. He began to shake, hoping to dislodge himself, but no luck. The voices were getting closer, and footsteps could be heard along with them. Large, loud footsteps.

"You've known me how long now? I'd think that you might-"

A tall blue and white Autobot stepped around a corner, followed closely by a boxy green one, who stopped talking as soon as he came into view. Skywarp waved.

"Um, hi! So, how's it going?"

The two Autobots stared, speechless. Skywarp fidgeted. "So, uh, you wanna help me down from here?"

The Autobots pulled out their weapons and aimed straight at Skywarp's face. The jet began flailing wildly, his body swaying with alarm.

"No wait, don't shoot! I've got-" He glanced around furiously before snatching a handful of bats from the ceiling. "Bats! And if you shoot, you might hit them you know!"

Hound looked uneasily at Mirage, who seemed a little stunned. "Do bats count? Prime says don't hurt humans, but bats?"

Hound lowered his gun. He loved nature, though he wasn't overly fond of bats, but still. He tried a different approach.

"What, exactly are you doing?" He asked of the jet. Said jet seemed to consider his words, an odd thing in and of itself. Then he smiled.

"Just hanging around. What about you?"

"Why are you 'hanging around?'" Hound ignored the Seeker's question.

"Do I really have to explain to you why I am hanging upside-down in a cave? I am a Decepticon Elite! I answer to no one!" Skywarp ended by thrusting his fist high above his head, but seeing as he was not currently upright, he only succeeded in punching the floor. He recoiled his hand and held it close to his chest.

"Yes, we can see that," Mirage answered coolly. Then he turned to his friend. "Now what do we do with this glitch?" He ignored the Seeker's cry of indignation.

"Maybe we should radio Prime? Bring him in? If we could-"

Suddenly a bomb came from the general vicinity of Skywarp. The shot was wide, and Hound was about to make a typical Autobot remark that the Decepticon had missed when it ricocheted off a rock and headed back for them.

"Bouncer Bomb!" Mirage yelled, ducking for cover behind a boulder. Hound followed quickly after, and Skywarp laughed uproariously before tensing up. He hadn't taken into account the fact that HE COULDN'T MOVE!

Skywarp swung his body to the left to dodge the bomb coming straight at him. The bomb was programmed to continue to bounce until it impacted a metal object. He was honestly quite proud of his little invention, but right now Skywarp wished he had devised a way to stop it.

_I need to get out of here! _He thought to himself. Then he smacked himself in the face. Sometimes even he had to admit he was an idiot. He channeled his energy and in a flash of purple, he teleported to the outside of the cave. He stood at the entrance, grinning at the sounds of the two Autobots struggling for a chance to make a break for the exit. Then there was a loud explosion, followed by cursing from one of them.

Distantly he heard, "Hound, are you alright?" Skywarp prepared to do a victory dance at eliminating one of the Autobots when he heard the other one's feeble response that he was indeed functioning. Skywarp sagged. Maybe he should have packed more explosives into it. He backed up and fired a few shots at the roof of the cave, sealing the exit. It wouldn't hold them for long, but it was fun just to make the Autobots mad about having to dig their way out. He happened to know that the blue one was a Towers mech, and all of his kind absolutely abhorred grunt work. If it was annoying, by Primus he'd do it!

He decided that he had had enough excitement for one day, and transformed to head back to base. He had to face the screaming storm sooner or later, and tormenting Starscream was just so much fun. Maybe he'd blow another gasket. Who knew?

Each day seemed to be filled to the brim with surprises. Especially for a bored Seeker.

* * *

><p>AN Skywarp needed more screen time. I read on Transformers Wiki that the first episode was supposed to include a scene where Skywarp finds a Frisbee and tosses it back and forth to Starscream before Megatron blasts it to bits. How cool would that have been!


	9. Whodunit?

A/N This chapter is dedicated to my best friend on and off fanfiction, **no cool pen names available**. She is not, unfortunately, a huge fan of Transformers, but she has seen the live action movies with me and does like them. So she only really knows those few Autobots who were in the movies. Maybe this will confuse her.

Oh, and I will be going off to camp this weekend for two weeks, so the next update, which will be a continuation of this chapter, might be a bit later.

_Disclaimer: _JaAm does not own Transformers. Sadly.

* * *

><p><em>Click<em>

The sound, though not very loud, woke Prowl from his recharge. Primary functions were reactivated and he slowly onlined his optics as he raised his head from his desk. He pushed himself up and took a scan of his room, groggily searching for whatever it was that had made the noise. There was just the slight feeling in the air, the one that told Prowl something was not right. He glanced down at the datapads neatly stacked on his left, then to the far larger unorganized pile on his right. Some of them had even fallen to the floor. Prowl reached down and picked them up, stacking them back up on his desk. He rubbed his optics, then pinched the bridge of his nose. He must have fallen in recharge late into the night. It wasn't uncommon, and he hadn't slept in days because of his workload. But what had woken him up?

Prowl stood up, doorwings stretching out behind him before settling down in a more dignified position. His internal chronometer told him that it was just before five, not much earlier than when he would wake up, if he even slept. He looked around his office once more. Something had to have made that sound, obviously. The niggling feeling remained, and even his dermal plating tingled. Prowl tried to push the thought aside as just morning nerves.

Prowl strode across the room and the door slid aside for him. His shift started in an hour, so he might as well get his morning ration before the more rowdy of the crew onlined. When he got a few steps away from his office, the door slid shut again with a soft _click._

Prowl whirled around to it, recognizing it as the sound that had woken him up. His battle computer activated involuntarily and had already produced a likely scenario for this strange morning. Someone had broken in to his office. But who? And for that matter, why?

"Sideswipe..." Prowl nearly growled. He turned on his heel and headed towards the warrior's room, certain he would be there. If Sideswipe was indeed responsible, Prowl had a good many punishments in mind for him. But what exactly had he done? Nothing in his room was changed. Then he remembered the haphazard pile of datapads. Prowl always kept everything neat and orderly. But surely if Sideswipe had knocked them over, he would've woken the tactician then, not when the door shut. As soon as Prowl located him, Sideswipe would be in for a heavy questioning.

Prowl kept a steady pace throughout his wondering. As he rounded a corner, he spotted Hound walking his way, morning ration already in hand. Hound skidded to a stop when he saw Prowl, optics wide.

"Um, good morning Prowl. You feeling alright?" The scout asked warily.

"Quite, thank you." Prowl responded curtly, and passed him by. Hound continued to stare as he walked, but Prowl paid him no mind. Finally coming to the twins' shared room, he rapped sharply at their door.

A low moan was heard through the door, then a muffled thump. Sunstreaker yelled something inane at Sideswipe before the slow clang of footsteps headed towards the door. It slid open, and a sleepy grimace met Prowl's optics.

"Sideswipe, I wish to speak to you about-"

"Prowl! What happened to you?" The red warrior all but yelled, now fully awake.

"I haven't the slightest idea what..." Prowl trailed off as he, for the first time that day, bothered to glance down at himself. Where there was once pristine black and white plating, there was now a garish, neon green. It covered him, helm to pede, except for his face. Prowl stared down in shock. He was not usually overly concerned with his paint job, which was why he had not noticed in the first place, but this was too much. Trying to retain some semblance of dignity, Prowl, stepped inside the brothers' quarters.

"Sideswipe. What is the meaning of this?" He said through a strained vocalizer.

But Sideswipe could no longer hear him. He was doubled up in laughter, clutching his sides and calling for his brother.

"What do you want?" Sunstreaker rolled rolled over on his berth and planted both feet on the ground. He looked towards them and his optics went wide. A giggle escape him, before he, too, broke into hysterics. "P-Prowl! You're-"

"I know what color I am! I want to know what you two had to do with it!"

Sideswipe, still gasping for air to cool his quickly overheating internal mechanisms, pointed at the tactician. "Can you get- _pfft_ -me the designation of the bot who did this? I have a few- _snicker_ -targets in mind for him."

"A little respect for your superior officer, maybe?" Prowl intoned.

Sideswipe stood up with barely contained giggles. "Oh, I'm sorry," He placed his hands on his hips. "Who _dared _to paint our SIC like a walking green screen?" He broke into laughter again, his brother looking on in amusement.

Prowl crossed his arms over his chest. "You don't fool me Sideswipe."

"You think I did this? Please," Sideswipe looked as though he were being insulted. "This is amateur. Simple-minded and easy."

"Which points directly to you."

"Believe what you want Prowl, but I didn't have a hand in this one. Kinda wishing I did though. Tracks would look _great _in pink."

Prowl huffed and left the twins' quarters, a loud "Good morning to you too, Prowl!" called out behind him as he left. He placed a finger on his forearm and scratched at it. The neon green paint didn't even chip. He opened a comm to Optimus Prime.

"Optimus?" Prowl heard static, then his commander's voice came over.

"_Prowl. It's a little early, don't you think?"_

"Sir, there's a bit of a problem." Prowl stated with an even tone. There was a creaking of joints over the comm, probably the Prime stretching out tight cables, when he inhaled sharply.

"_What in Primus' name..."_

"What is it sir?" Though Prowl had an idea of what was going on.

"_I'll kill that son of a glitch." _Prime's tone was somewhere between startled and amused. "If we are on the same page, I agree," Prowl informed him. "Though I have yet to find any evidence on who the 'son of a glitch' is." Optimus made the obvious guess, and Prowl admitted that the usual suspect claimed to not be a part in whatever was going on.

"But we'll find out soon," Prowl paused. Then he canted his head to one side. "Might I ask about the state of your new paint job?"

Optimus groaned.

* * *

><p>Early morning found Jazz sauntering down the hallway, in a good mood as ever. He already had his morning ration and decided to head down to Teletran-1 to see if there was anything he could help with since his patrol shift didn't start until late afternoon. He had some time to kill until then.<p>

Rounding the corner into the main room, the backside of a huge black mech met his optics. He unsubspaced his gun and was about to signal the infiltration of the _Ark _by Motormaster when he noticed the blue head on the broad shoulders.

"What the..." He canted his head to the side just as the mech in question turned around.

It was indeed Optimus, though not looking like his usual self. The brave Autobot leader was painted all black except for a large white triangle at the top of his chassis and a smaller red dot to the left of that. It took a while for Jazz to process that Optimus Prime looked like he...

was wearing a tuxedo.

Jazz caved in on himself with laughter, Optimus glaring holes into him. Stifling his giggles was not his strong point though, and as soon as he was able to look Optimus in the optics, he noticed a neon green Prowl standing beside him and nearly fell to the floor. Oh, if the Decepticons were to stage an attack anytime soon, the Autobots would probably be missing their top two officers.

Clutching at his chest, Jazz waved a hand in the general direction of the two 'bots in front of him. "This base gets weirder by the day!"

"Jazz, please pull yourself together." Prowl said with the air of someone who should be angry but was just annoyed.

"I'm working on that, Prowl man," Jazz turned to Optimus. "So who's the lucky lady?"

Optimus took a step towards his Third In Command, and though Jazz knew Optimus would never hurt him, he held up his hands in defense. "Alright, I got it, no jokes. But Prowl-"

"I don't have time for it Jazz," Prowl interrupted before he could be further insulted. "Do you have any idea who is behind this?"

"I'm gonna go out on a limb here and say you've already checked Sideswipe?" Prowl nodded. "Then sorry, can't help ya there."

Optimus sighed. "I suppose Ratchet has a solvent we can use to get this paint off."

"I do hope so." Prowl shook his head. And with that, the three of them turned away, Jazz walking ahead to make sure there was no one in the hallways to see the tuxedoed Prime and neon Second. After turning several bots in a different direction, they finally arrived at the medical wing. Jazz nodded to Ratchet before the medic went into his office. Then he noticed the blue and pink robot on the medical berth. The small mech quickly looked away, and Jazz grinned like the Cheshire Cat and approached the minibot. He stuck out his hand. "Excuse me, I don't think I've ever seen ya before. You are?"

"Very funny, Jazz." Bumblebee crossed his arms and glared at his mentor. The minibot was pastel blue with pink zebra stripes all over, even the horns on his helm. He was a piece of work, and Jazz wondered if this was the last of the victims. Prowl and Optimus soon entered, and they paid one glance to Bumblebee before looking away themselves, Optimus with a bit of a smile behind his face mask. He tried to cover his laugh with a cough, but it was obvious to Bumblebee. The scout gave Optimus a strange look too, but was more respectful of his commander.

Ratchet exited his office with a datapad and looked up at the new patients in his medbay.

"Isn't this something you lot should see Wheeljack about?" He huffed.

Jazz pointed at the berth furthest from the door along the wall, which was occupied by an unconscious engineer.

Ratchet grumbled something about the lack of competent mechs aboard before turning to Optimus. "Now what in the name of Primus' pistons happened to you two?"

Optimus stepped forward to explain the situation when Ratchet went into a tirade about his lack of supplies and inability to deal with 'Pit-spawned fraggers with nothing to do'.

Jazz wisely left the room.

* * *

><p>Late that night, Ironhide came in from patrol dead tired. First there had been the wreck down on the interstate, then rounding up the escaped animals from the zoo with the Protectobots, and then he had assisted in a police chase. While none of these things truly merited his attention, Ironhide just couldn't bring himself to leave them alone and risk human harm. Each casualty he could prevent on Earth helped ease his mind just a little about all the other comrades he had lost back on Cybertron.<p>

Now all he was looking forward to was a nice recharge. Not even bothering for an energon cube, the burly red mech tossed himself onto his berth and cycled down his optics.

He wasn't quite the same when he woke up.


	10. It Gets Worse

_It's the only way, Ratchet! We have to leave Cybertron! What? Your sanity? You still have that?_ Ratchet thought irritably to himself. If they had stayed on Cybertron instead of rocketing off on a half-thought whim, he wouldn't be in this situation. And with the way things usually worked on the _Ark_, it could only get worse from here.

Ratchet tapped the knuckle of one finger on Optimus Prime's newly blackened back. "Nothing I can do for you slaggers. Industrial grade paint," Ratchet refused to admit that his entire paint supply had been gone missing. Been stolen, more likely. He wondered absently why not even logical Prowl had suggested they paint over their new looks.

Prowl gave him a slightly startled, slightly neon green look. "Are you saying that it's permanent?"

"No, I'm saying it-" He was abruptly cut off by the opening of the med bay doors, and a small mech with a mouth already in motion stepped through.

"Hey Ratchet, Smokescreen wants to know if..." One of the few glorious moments where the gunner was silent, and if he hadn't been so exhausted, Ratchet might have taken a moment to bask in wonder. Bluestreak's optics were as wide as his mouth as he slowly turned around and walked back out, posture as rigid as Sideswipe's had been when that sea urchin had lodged itself in his undercarriage.

"-was made to withstand anything thrown at it, solvents, lasers, or, when battles got really bad, other mechs," Ratchet grunted without missing a beat.

"But it's not permanent?" Blue-and-pink Bumblebee asked, wondering if he should ask the medic to lock the doors.

Whoever had painted these bots had only applied one layer, so they had _some_ sense in them. "Nah, should fade in about a week."

The three yells that followed his evaluation pushed Ratchet into his favorite position: Hands on hips, glare nice and threatening, vocalizer turned all the way up.

"Now get the frag outta my med bay!" He yelled, half shoving them all out anyway. Each of the three immediately turned and almost sprinted towards their respective quarters like there was a fusion cannon shoved up their afts. They would probably stay there for the next week as best they could, and Ratchet was content with that. As soon as the doors cycled closed, a soot-covered Wheeljack erupted in previously contained laughter. Ratchet rolled his optics.

* * *

><p>"<em>Optimus Prime?"<em>

"Yes, Teletraan-1?"

"_Juuzo Saejima on the visual feed. Requesting advice in regards to new BP unit."_

"Reschedule."

"_He claims it is urgent."_

"**Reschedule.**"

"_...Yes sir."_

* * *

><p>Trailbreaker inched into the Rec Room, nervousness practically radiating from him. Ratchet had given him a note to give to Sunstreaker. Not a big deal, and he had agreed to pass it on. Then he'd read the note.<p>

_We're out of yellow paint. Deal with it._

Now Ratchet was a force to be reckoned with on a good day, but he wasn't stupid. No way in the Pit was he going to tell Sunstreaker this face to face, despite being the only Autobot this side of Omega Supreme with the ability to pin the warrior down. Ratchet figured he'd put up with enough slag today anyway. So now Trailbreaker had to inform Sunstreaker of the lack of paint supplies and hope he was in a good mood. Well, not a psychopathic one anyway. Maybe Sunstreaker would be happy to get the information beforehand so he could try to stay out of minor scuffles and avoid mars to his paint job. And maybe Megatron would propose to Elita One with a Ring Pop.

The Rec Room was fairly empty and Trailbreaker quickly caught sight of a tall, yellow backside heading toward the energon dispensers. Kinda cautiously, just like Trailbreaker. The Toyota approached the yellow warrior and tapped lightly on his shoulder, careful not to scratch the paint. The yellow robot froze.

_Uh-oh. I'm done for,_ Trailbreaker thought bleakly, ducking down into a defensive position.

The frontliner turned slowly, excruciatingly slowly. Trailbreaker braced himself.

"Umm... Yes?"

Okay, not the reaction Trailbreaker was expecting at all. He held out the note anyway.

"This is for..." He stood up straight again. "Sideswipe?"

"Shh! Not so loud!" It was indeed Sideswipe, but instead of his usual cherry red, he was his brother's shiny yellow. The missile launcher was there on his shoulder, as Trailbreaker had failed to notice, and he was missing the head fins, but other than that he was the spitting image of his twin.

"What the frag!"

"Do you _want _me to kill you? Keep it down!"

"I thought you were the prankster! Did you paint yourself? Where's Sunstreaker? Why don't- GACK!" Sideswipe wrapped his hands around Trailbreaker's neck and shook.

The few bots that were in the room glanced over as if considering helping Trailbreaker, but since the sight of Sunstreaker strangling someone wasn't all that uncommon, no one got very suspicious. Except Red Alert, but you know.

Sideswipe loosened his grip and placed his hands on Trailbreaker's shoulders instead. "I just want to get some energon. Can't a bot get some energon around here without getting his paint job called into question?"

Trailbreaker rubbed his now sore neck and threw a sideways glance at the red-turned-yellow warrior. "If you're so nervous about being seen, why are you out here?"

"I'm just trying to get as far away as I can from ground zero."

"Ground zero?" If Trailbreaker had been about to ask more questions he was interrupted by the red storm heading towards them. Sideswipe had been painted yellow, so it was only logical that Sunstreaker got the same treatment. The pristine yellow warrior was now a pristine red one. Even his head fins had been painted in black to appear more like Sideswipe's helm. The newly-red warrior's optics flicked about the room like a cornered fox, only much, much more dangerous. The previously mentioned few bots that were in the room recognized the red warrior's craze as a Sunstreaker-type thing, and soon put the missile launcher and head fin factors together to create a startling equation.

"Sunstreaker, why are you red?"

"When did you two switch headgear?"

"This ain't The Parent Trap, you know!"

Sunstreaker's optics finally found his brother, who offered him a sheepish wave. Sideswipe instinctively launched into a defensive speech declaring his innocence, but Sunstreaker had already moved on. Another mech walked into the room, and Sunstreaker turned his kill-everything glare towards him. Jazz stopped in his tracks, hands held up defensively.

"K-Kill... You..." Sunstreaker's vocalizer glitched in anger.

The saboteur figured if the glare were any harder it would rival Ratchet's.

"I'm going to make you wish for deactivation!" Sunstreaker snarled. Suddenly it clicked into place for Jazz.

"Wasn't me!" He threw his hands in front of his face. "I didn't paint ya! I didn't do it!"

Sunstreaker must not have believed him, as he threw a punch squarely at Jazz's chest. Jazz caught his fist with one hand, but hadn't been expecting another punch from Sunstreaker's other hand. Pain shot through his head before he collided with the wall, arms falling to his sides like dead weight. The other mechs, Mirage, Brawn, Red Alert, Blaster, and Cliffjumper, jumped up to hold Sunstreaker back while Sideswipe and Trailbreaker rushed to Jazz's side. The black and white was clutching his hip, mumbling something indecipherable to himself. Sideswipe lifted Jazz's arm up and onto his shoulder, struggling to get him to his feet. Trailbreaker suggested taking him to Ratchet.

"M'alright. Lemme go." Jazz staggered and Trailbreaker tried to grab for his other arm. Jazz pulled away and massaged the side of his head. "Cons ain't got nuthin' on a... a rubber chicken. No, that ain't right..." Sideswipe held up three yellow fingers in front of Jazz's static-filled visor, asking him to count them. Jazz shook his head violently, snapping out of his daze. "S'alright! I'm good! Oh, and three." Sideswipe nodded and put his hand down.

The others finally managed to cool Sunstreaker down. Irritation still flowed off him in near-tangible waves, but that was normal, so Sunstreaker was probably stabilized for now. Everything seemed alright, and things returned to relative normalcy in the Rec Room.

Until the clown car thundered in.

A big white van with tiny, multicolored polka dots all over raced in, transformed mid-skid, and looked up with optics of fire. Optics of fire, and a meticulously spotted body. There was even a crowd of artfully-drawn clowns smiling on Ironhide's windshield.

"Which glitch-headed, Primus-forsaken, Pit-spawn a'Unicron decided it would be a fraggin' good idea t' paint meh!" The weapons master bellowed.

Jazz took a step back. "On second thought, maybe a visit ta the Ratch-man is in order." Jazz and the yellow Sideswipe sprinted out and Trailbreaker was about to follow when he remembered something. He looked down at the crumpled note that he'd clutched in his fist. He tried to smooth it out but only managed to make it look a little less wrinkly, like it had been through a washing machine. Trailbreaker cautiously inched his way over to the slightly less angry, still entirely red Sunstreaker, who was showing little reaction to Ironhide's threat other than a small, healthy dose of fear. He thrust the note out in front of him and Sunstreaker snatched it before he could say anything about it. The Toyota took a few steps back before turning and sprinting in the same direction as the others.

The rage-filled scream followed him down the corridor.

* * *

><p>AN I'm a terrible person! It's been a month! Granted, I spent two weeks of it in the mountains, but I still feel bad. Got severe writer's block this past week. I couldn't think of anything funny. I HAVE AN EMPTY HEAD FILLED WITH EMPTINESS!


	11. Found Out

**A/N Prowl is mad at me for not updating sooner. I'm sure you all are too.**

* * *

><p>Three days later and even more bots had been painted. Ratchet was still fuming about his missing paint supply. Red Alert was sure it was all a Decepticon plot, and Inferno spent a good lot of his time trying to calm his hysterical friend. Surely if the Decepticons were behind all this, they would have attacked by now, right?<p>

Tracks had escaped to Portland the day before in a desperate attempt to stay blue and planned to stay there until the whole thing blew over. Huffer hadn't left his quarters in two days, and everybot was just dying to see what had become of him. Rumors circulated that he was in cheerleader's garb, fitting for such a sultry bot. Bluestreak seemed to be holed up in his quarters as well, but no one knew what had become of the gunner. And none of the Autobots had appeared in public the whole time. Bumblebee even refused to see Spike and Carly, who were still out of the loop on the why.

If anyone knew the mastermind behind it all, no one was saying anything, much to Prowl's consternation. He had thoroughly interrogated Jazz and Sideswipe, the former offering him sly half answers, and the latter complaining about being constantly mistaken for his brother. Prowl had a sneaking suspicion that Jazz knew the story behind it all, but the other black and white wasn't head of Special Ops because of his charm.

Well, he had been black and white. Jazz now sported a number of cartoony bandages and scrapes all up and down his arms and legs. There was a medical bandage painted around his torso and two of his denta had been painted black to look like they had been punched out. He also seemed to have a black eye, or black optic in this case. Jazz looked like he had been beat up in an alleyway and left for scrap. He wore it with pride.

* * *

><p>"Two more days, two more days," Prowl whispered to himself as he walked down the halls one morning. Many a mech walked by and laughed at him, even those who were painted themselves. It was an odd thing to see the Second In Command looking so... not In Command.<p>

Prowl walked deftly down the halls until he came to the Conference Room. He entered the 6 digit code before letting himself in. Optimus, still tuxedoed, Jazz, and Red Alert were already waiting for him. Red had been painted over to look like the Stunticon Breakdown, much like Sideswipe had been way back when the Autobots disguised themselves as the Decepticon cars. When Red had first seen his reflection in a window he had panicked, yelling about the presence of the Decepticon. It had taken Beachcomber and Perceptor ten minutes to calm him down and explain.

Prowl took his seat at Optimus Prime's right and pulled a datapad from subspace.

Immediately Red Alert began. "If we don't-"

Only to be cut off by the opening of the doors. Prowl's doorwings sagged slightly in relief, but came back up almost as quickly.

Ratchet stormed in as only the Medic from the Pit could and took a seat. He crossed his arms over his still-white chest and glanced around, daring someone to challenge him.

"Ratchet, you can't just barge in here like you own the place!" Red Alert challenged him. Ratchet raised an optic ridge. Red Alert looked pleadingly to Optimus, but the Prime only held his hands up.

"He owns the place."

Red Alert sank back down in his seat.

Prowl grabbed control of the situation with both servos before the Security Director had a chance to recuperate. "We are here to discuss the recent... pranks occurring all over the Ark. This needs to stop."

"Hear, hear!" Jazz said, looking a little sleep deprived himself.

Optimus ran a hand down his chest and looked at Red Alert. "Have you managed to recover any security footage?"

"No," the Lamborghini sighed. "Whoever is doing this is going into the quarters of various mechs and immediately disabling the security cameras. Do you know how long it takes me to hook them all back up?"

"But we do have one clue," Prowl began. "Three mechs a night. Sometimes six. Unfortunately that is about all we have. There is no pattern elsewhere, not in the mechs harassed or paint styling."

"Do you mean to say that we may be after more than just one bot?" Optimus said, hand still stroking down from his neck.

"I mean exactly that."

"Any idea on what the punishment's gonna be for these bots? It is all harmless fun, ya know. Don't take it too seriously." Jazz grinned his gap-toothed smile.

"And if the Decepticons attack?" Ratchet asked pointedly.

"Then we hope Reflector ain't there with 'em."

"If they do come," Ratchet shook his finger at Jazz. "We'll just put you on the front lines and see what you think then!"

Jazz shook his head, "Nah, that's Sides' and Sunny's job. Con's will just think they're the same as always, just a lil more..." He spun his finger around the side of his helm.

"Right. Worst comes to worst, we'll send out the unpainted bots and the Twins," Optimus said, closed fist held at the base of his neck. "We might just have to- what are you staring at?"

The last part was aimed at Jazz, who was wearing a confused sort of smile. "Are you... straightening... your tie?"

Optimus Prime's hand suddenly jerked back down into his lap. His optics got wide as he stuttered for an answer.

"Prime?" Prowl asked hesitantly.

"I've... grown accustomed to it."

Jazz waggled a finger at his leader. "Sparkplug wasn't kiddin'! We get more an' more human ev'ry day!" He cackled.

"Think Red will start acting like Breakdown?" Ratchet asked offhandedly.

That was clearly the wrong thing to say. Red Alert let out a screech and gripped the table. Ratchet grabbed the frantic mech's shoulder and shook it as though trying to shake sense into him. Red seemed to realize that the notion of his becoming a Decepticon was far-fetched even for him, but he still held onto the table as though for dear sanity. Optimus was still stammering for the right words, and Jazz was incoherent with laughter. Prowl shook his head. It was a good thing he was a bit ahead of the game. "Meeting adjourned."

* * *

><p>"So you think they'll come after me next?" Anxiety could be heard clearly from Trailbreaker's voice. He, Mirage, and Hound sat at a table in the Rec Room, sipping on cubes of energon and discussing the current situation. How could they not? It was almost all anyone was talking about.<p>

"I believe so," The refined sound of a Tower's mech answered him. "At the very least, you have yet to become repainted. It will happen soon enough."

"There are few of us left, I'll give you that."

"And if they choose you as their next victim, you can put a stop to it!" Hound said. Trailbreaker looked back and forth between him and Mirage. Hound was sporting a different color on each limb, and his face was a navy blue. His torso was black and his abdomen was red. Mirage, however, still looked normal.

"What about you? I don't see any new paint on your chassis!" Trailbreaker craned his neck to make sure he hadn't missed anything.

"Yes, but I am hoping these perpetrators will realize that my special abilities become nullified if I am painted over. As long as they have more sense than turbo-foxes, this should be obvious."

"So why're you all so adamant about stopping the pranks?" Trailbreaker questioned, one optic brow raised behind his visor. "I thought you would at least find it funny, Hound."

"True enough," Hound spread his servos out in front of him. "But I wanna know who did it. Anyone with the ball bearings to paint both Prime _and _Prowl is okay in my book."

"Indeed," There was a ghost of a smile on Mirage's lips, but no more. "And besides that, Bumblebee says that Spike and Carly are getting suspicious." Trailbreaker raised an optic ridge at that. Mirage sighed. "I owe Bumblebee a favor, and we will leave it at that."

"What, did he save your can in another Ops mission?" Hound asked.

"L-Let's keep our focus on the matter at hand, shall we?"

Trailbreaker laughed, finding the phrase oddly funny considering his lack of a left hand. "Sure, sure. And if Bumblebee wants you to polish his armor, will you do that too?" Hound snickered and Trailbreaker looked as though he was seriously waiting for an answer

Mirage sat with barely contained frustration, but offlined his optics and prayed to Primus for the strength to resist strangling someone. "Are you two satisfied with yourselves?" He asked, optics still dark.

"Not quite, but it's enough. So, what's the plan?"

"That, my friend, is the easy part."

* * *

><p>It was true, what they said. Trailbreaker did snore.<p>

And his engine rumbled constantly.

And he did not look at all dignified with one arm draped over his chest and one foot hanging off the side of his berth.

Mirage could only critique to keep his boredom at bay. He already knew he wouldn't drop into recharge, as his Special Ops training had shown him how to make his body obey him. He wouldn't fall asleep when it wasn't absolutely necessary, he could limit his energon flow to conserve energy, and he could drown out pain and fear with his thoughts. These were the things he used to stay alive, especially in hostage situations. Those were quite common when your job was to sneak behind enemy lines. Thankfully, Bumblebee had come to his rescue this time.

Um. Er. Enough about that.

What mattered now was that Trailbreaker was asleep and there were exactly four hours and twenty-two minutes until sunrise.

Mirage sat, invisible, in a corner of Trailbreaker's room, just under the security camera. Mirage had overheard Red Alert complaining to Inferno that whoever was behind this was taking out the cameras first and sabotaging paint jobs second. The bot would come to Mirage before going anywhere near Trailbreaker.

The current bait was still snoring louder than Blaster's latest mix tape. Honestly, would it kill him to put a little more thought into the arrangement of his furniture? And the decor was just pitiful. Really? An Oregon Ducks flag?

.

..

...

...

Okay, Mirage was officially bored. Critiquing only went so far.

Mirage's head snapped up at the soft slide of the door. A helm peeked in, blue optics only slightly lighting up the dark as they surveyed the room. When no danger was detected, the bot quietly stepped into the room. In the dim light of the room, Mirage could only make out the model type. Specifically because he could quite clearly make out the doorwings. For a brief, processor-overloading second, Mirage thought it was Prowl. His logic circuits quickly dismissed that as the bot moved along the wall towards the camera as expected. Mirage lunged.

* * *

><p>Bluestreak sat in the hard-backed chair, awaiting his trial. He considered it a trial, though it was probably not as severe as the gunner imagined it was. Bluestreak got into trouble often, but it was usually involuntary or accidental. Like the time he shot Optimus Prime in the back instead of Dirge. Little things like that.<p>

This? This was no accident.

The honored judge entered the room, followed by his trusted assistant and a small jury. The judge sat down at the large desk in front of the accused and threaded his fingers together. His assistant stood, hands on hips, at his side as the jury stood nearby with arms crossed. Judge turned to assistant and whispered something to him before turning back to the accused.

"You do realize-"

"GUILTY!"

Prowl sat with his mouth open. Closed. Open again. "Are you alright, Bluestreak?"

Bluestreak shifted in his seat. "Not really." He turned hopeful optics to Jazz, but the saboteur seemed to find the ceiling very interesting at the moment.

Optimus, Ratchet, and Ironhide leaned back against one wall while Trailbreaker, Mirage, and Hound stood on the opposite side. Optimus looked slightly sympathetic towards his gunner, while Ratchet and Ironhide merely glared.

"Where are my paints?" Ratchet demanded. Prowl almost told him to hush, but Bluestreak answered.

"I don't have them."

"Then who, might I ask, does?" Ratchet soundly vaguely calm, like the calm before the storm. Bluestreak's mouth clamped shut as he turned back towards Prowl.

Ratchet's optics got wide and he took a dangerous step towards Bluestreak. "Primus-fraggit I'll-" but Optimus grabbed his elbow and tugged him back into place.

"Ratchet, please refrain from beating the youngling," Prowl admonished. Ratchet grumbled but reluctantly stood back.

"Now then," Prowl picked up a datapad. "Bluestreak, you do realize that you are going to be punished for what you have done, don't you? You and your accomplices?"

Bluestreak looked up at that, but not about the punishment. "B-But you don't know who they are, right?"

"We aren't exactly sure yet, but we will be soon enough," There was a warning in the tactician's voice.

"Pardon me Prowl, but may I ask a question?" Mirage held up a hand.

"I... suppose so."

"What, exactly, are you supposed to resemble, Bluestreak?"

Bluestreak's cheeks grew hot and the gray metal turned red. He mumbled something.

"I'm sorry?"

"NYAN CAT!"

Indeed, Bluestreak's face and all his limbs were painted completely gray. His entire midsection was colored a light pink with little squares of a darker pink. Best of all, on each of his doorwings was a rainbow.

For a moment there was stunned silence. Then at once it hit Hound and Trailbreaker, each of whom doubled over in laughter. Jazz grinned, having already gotten it before hand. The others just looked confused. "Who?"

Trailbreaker and Hound began to sing the song over their hysterics, thought it wasn't really words so much as a high pitched repetitive noise. Prowl's processor gave off sparks for a few seconds before shutting down completely to reboot. His head fell forward and Jazz rapidly waved a hand in front of his face. Optimus looked to Mirage for an answer, but the spy merely gave him a long-suffering look and reached to pull Hound off the floor.

Prowl's optics lit up again and he looked to Jazz with confusion. "Neon... Cat?"

Jazz shook his head. "Nyan... Cat." He said slowly. Prowl and Jazz repeated it back and forth for a few seconds, then Prowl shook his head. "I'm going to pretend I know what that is."

"I wouldn't if I were you, Prowler. I'd be mighty concerned if ya'd ever seen it 'fore."

Bluestreak sat miserably in the wake of the confusion. Hound and Trailbreaker were standing again, though still leaning on each other for support. Prowl was back online and he turned his attention back to the 'trial'.

"Bluestreak, you shouldn't have done what you did."

"Tha's right,"Jazz interrupted. "I'm disappointed in ya, Blue."

Bluestreak's optics went wide and his mouth opened and closed as he struggled for words.

"Oh, I'm disappointed in you too, Jazz."

Jazz stiffened. He turned his head slowly towards the tactician. "How'd you know...?"

Prowl smirked, a rare, blessed thing. "I know everything. Pull up a seat next to Bluestreak."

Jazz pouted and grabbed a chair from the back of the room. He dropped into his chair, crossed his arms over his chest, and huffed.

Whispers rustled through the room, but Prowl paid them no mind. "So, will you tell me who else is involved? Your punishment might not be as severe if you do."

"We'll never give in!" Jazz proclaimed, fist held defiantly high.

"W-What he said!" Bluestreak said nervously.

"Somebody send for Sunstreaker."

Jazz's jaw almost hit the floor and Bluestreak gaped. Ratchet grinned deviously and left the room for the front-liner.

"Seriously, man? How?" Jazz pleaded with his friend.

"Simple. Sunstreaker is an artist. I would recognize his particular style anywhere. He has painted enough graffiti on my door these last few millenia." Prowl said with obvious disdain. "The question now is, Why?"

The door slid open and Ratchet shoved Sunstreaker through. "Watch the paint! I'm telling you, I don't have Track's stupid 'Diamond Grade Midas Touch Mirror Shine' polish or whatever. I don't even-" The sentence caught in his throat as he saw who was waiting for him.

Jazz waved cheerfully.

Sunstreaker rolled his eyes and strode into the room. He stood and stared at Bluestreak until the youngling meekly got up. Sunstreaker took his seat with a huff and Bluestreak moved to stand next to Jazz.

Prowl leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms. "So, does anyone care to explain?"

Jazz, sensing a losing battle, shrugged. "We got bored."

"Apparently."

"Where's my fragging paint?" Ratchet's optics were burning with a glare. Sunstreaker rolled his eyes, so Ratchet moved in front of the not-yellow-but-red warrior.

"Let me rephrase that. Where the _frag_ is my _slaggin' paint_ you _glitch_!"

Oh. Well that changed things.

Sunstreaker seemed to shrink, if only slightly, into his seat. "Rafters. My room."

Ratchet, having got what he came for, nodded and left with a lazy salute to Optimus. Sunstreaker figured Sideswipe would be in for a rude awakening from his nap.

"Seriously though Prowler, how'd ya figger it out?"

Prowl smiled. "Did you think I wouldn't notice Jazz? The way you laughed upon seeing Optimus and myself for the first time, and then showed little to no reaction when you came across Bumblebee? It was quite obvious. You painted Bumblebee, didn't you?"

Jazz grumbled incoherently. Prowl turned next to Sunstreaker. "I almost immediately recognized your artistic style upon seeing Ironhide. The detail on the clowns. No one else on the Ark is an artist, Sunstreaker. You paint too well for your own good." Prowl's head tilted to one side. "But besides that, it was also the way you blamed Jazz for your new paint job without any considerable proof. You attacked him without even suspecting anyone else, not even your brother."

"But I heard Jazz!" Red Alert spoke up. "In the Rec Room that day. He claimed he didn't do it."

"S'right. I didn't. Blue did. I painted Sideswipe."

"I don't see how that makes a difference." Red said quietly.

"Hey, when an angry Sunny is lookin' you between the optics, you'll say anythang to steer him away. I was hopin' he'd take that and go after Blue."

"Hey!"

"Relax, man. You were out on patrol at th' time."

"Oh. Okay."

"And you Bluestreak." Bluestreak gulped at Prowl's pondering tone. "I didn't really suspect you at all."

Optimus stepped forward. "Wait Prowl. Do you remember when Bluestreak came into the med bay on that first day?"

"Of course."

"He looked so stiff when he left. But it wasn't from surprise. It was fear. Wasn't it?"

Bluestreak could only nod.

"Fear of being discovered," Optimus continued. "You didn't want to say anything that might make you look guilty. That's why he didn't say anything or ask questions."

Prowl was contemplating this, then nodded. It did make sense. One thing didn't quite add up though.

"Sunstreaker, if you had Ratchet's paints all along, why didn't you repaint yourself?"

Sunstreaker snorted. "You don't think anyone would've realized it if I suddenly looked like my handsome self again? If I had, you would've picked up on it, no doubt."

"True enough. You were so angry because you had the means to fix your paint job, but still could not."

"Exactly. You finally catch on."

Prowl decided to let that one slide, mostly because this was his favorite part. "Right. The three of you will spend the next four days enjoying each others company in the brig." The three bots in question all groaned. But Prowl was just getting started. "Once that time is over, you will all have double shifts for the next two weeks."

"Come on Prowl!" Jazz exclaimed. "Ain't that a bit harsh?"

"Hardly," Prowl grimaced. "Bluestreak did paint me neon green."

Bluestreak slumped over.

The three got up and Ironhide escorted them to the brig, glaring holes in Sunstreaker's back the whole way. Hound looked down at himself and came to the conclusion that Bluestreak must have painted him. Red Alert's makeover was the product of Sunstreaker's imagination, as was Optimus Prime's tux. Bluestreak and Jazz were also Sunny's doing. Various other bots had been targeted by Jazz and Bluestreak, including Huffer, Blaster, Gears, Wheeljack, Hound, and Sludge (and that one had been a challenge). Well, they had had their fun, but now they had to pay the price.

* * *

><p>Hound was walking through the halls the next day when he passed Prowl's office. He heard something that made him stop in his tracks. He pressed his helm a little closer to Prowl's door. It was...music. But not just any music. High-pitched, repetitive music... and laughter...<p> 


End file.
